Olive Garden

I heard this on the street while walking back to my apartment last night.  I almost stopped in my tracks to see who could have uttered such a thing.  I cannot tell you the depths of my hatred for Olive Garden, I despise everything about that place.  The food sucks, they charge way too much and their commercials are the absolute worst.

Do they really think that some kid giving a double-donger helping of bread sticks to his uncle is going to sell pasta (C’mon, that whole scene is awkwardly phallic, or am I just weird)?  I went out with some chick and on our first date she mentioned that her favorite restaurant was the Olive Garden – ultimate boner-deflator.  How could they possibly do well selling shitty pasta at $15 a plate?  Even talking about Olive Garden sickens me… lets watch the “Dr. Zeaus” clip from the Simpsons to cleanse our palette.

Moon

Speaking of space travel, I was watching Moon, a movie about a man who lives on the (you guessed it) Moon in the near future, and it dawned on me that there have not been any good “realistic” space travel movies lately.  In fact the last one that I can remember is Apollo 13.  Anytime space travel is on the big screen it is some fantastical world that has no similarities to our own.  Compare that to “realistic” war movies which are released all the time, that entertain by depicting war in all of its heroically gruesome detail.  Why is that?  It was refreshing to watch a depiction of what life would be like in the near future with a focus on space travel.

I think it comes down to American culture today and breaking these 2 genres down to their base elements.  It is not war vs space but rather fear vs. wonder.  Fear is winning right now.  As a country we have so many resources that we are pushing towards destruction when those same jobs and resources could be working for a better future for everyone instead.  So that brings us back to my original point, instead of ramming another depressing real life war movie drama down my throat make a compelling movie about space exploration that will give people a sense for what COULD be possible in the future.  I’m thinking of something that stretches the limits of what we are doing today but is still plausible.  Putting the possibility in people’s heads that we can be elsewhere in our solar system gaining something instead of just beating the shit out of each other in some jungle or desert could help things a lot.

Exe’s

So here is a question for all of my readers.  If you know that someone had hooked up with someone that you were interested in dating, would you still be interested in dating them?  I guess for me it would matter how much I liked the person in mind and how close I was to the friend who fucked them.  I would err on the side of not dating the fuckee because I feel like my buddy would always have something over on me.  Not in a literal sense because a real friend would never put that kind of thing back in your face but more the metaphorical sense that your friend would be thinking about how they fucked your girlfriend everytime they saw her.

This comes up because one of my buddies went out on a date that he dubbed as his best date ever.  Then at the end of him relating his date story to me I intimated that I had hooked up with this chick and he was absolutely crestfallen (yes, I am a dick, what of it?).  Anyways, I think it would have been a deal breaker for him and most likely something like that would be a deal breaker for me.

How do you feel about taking a helping of sloppy seconds?

A recent discussion with Mr. Ultraparadoxical led to a discussion about oral sex [Pretty much all of my conversations lead to oral sex somehow... weird], during which I made some strong statements.  He responded by asking me to present them to you.

Allow me to begin by saying clearly: THERE ARE men out there who will suffer from none of the below afflictions; men who just sincerely enjoy pleasing a lady and who combine and balance their oral skills with a healthy dosing of, well, dick.

The conversation Mr. U and I were having however was about men who, after repeated sexual encounters with ample opportunities, have not yet tried to have sex (yep, the penis in the vagina kind) but instead enthusiastically insist on pleasuring her orally and then calling it a day. True, as a lady, this should sound nothing but blissful; all the orgasm and none of the effort? Huzzah! Alas, not so simple.

After wondering aloud in many-a-circle of girl friends, I have confirmed a few truths about these sorts of men, the “I just want to please you” type of men, and women far and wide agree that there are three conclusions to be had.  First, numbers one and two:

1. He has a small penis… and he knows it
2. He has and STD… and he’s waiting for the right time to tell you about it

For girls in our early and mid twenties they encompassed every reasonable possibility.  Not everyone in their twenties has seen as much ass as has Mr. U, and it’s perfectly rational to expect that some men (and women), having not yet come into their own sexual confidence and comfort, would feel slightly insecure about what they bring to the table.  [Special personal note to Mr. U:  I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from learning the term “Arby’s Vagina.”

If college age women catch wind of that euphemism, I think we can safely expect that dorm room sex will plummet and emotional eating will rise.]  If a man is concerned that he’s bringing something less than average to the table, it seems reasonable that he would try to keep it under his hat (if his hat were his pants) for as long as he could in the hopes that he wins the poor gal over with his stellar personality and his incredible oral talents.

Further, we’re a dirty generation. We are. If everyone who had the clap was actually clapping the volume would be profound [That begs the philosophical question... what's the sound of one STD clapping?].  And holy shit, imagine the cacophony if we went ahead and attributed a sound to each affliction! You there, with the herpes, yep – I want you to snap, slowly, like a beatnik… Christ, we’d all be deafened.  There are so many STD’s stuck to our collective genitalia that my gynecologist has switched from trying to scare the bejesus out of me about contracting one (circa 1996) to congratulating me profusely each time I again test clear (circa three weeks ago) because she just “can’t believe it’s actually possible to avoid them anymore.”  So, when you think about it, the numbers are against you.  Therefore, when your date seems to be undeniably avoiding touching his contagious parts to yours, an STD stall is a statistical reality.

These two reasons served me pretty well as a young pup. I would toss them at girlfriends who phoned out of desperate sexual frustration and we’d bat them around a bit, making guesses about whether or not he had a visible STD or a visible penis, for that matter.  But then our 30s began to approach, and with that, the men coming in and out of our lives began to age and explanation number three came into clear sights:

1. He’s impotent… and he knows it.

It’s not just grandpa [or your pre-op tranny grandma] who suffers from erectile dysfunction. Reports are coming in from all over the place of men in their 30s and 40s who suffer from the inability to muster up a useful erection (or keep one), and it isn’t all chalked up to Whiskey Dick [Also the original title for Herman Melville's classic novel until he finally settled on Moby Dick].  Maybe it’s all the garbage he ate in college, smothered in condiments and loosely labeled “food”; maybe it’s how much of his circulation has been going to his hands to help him crush it on his Xbox for 12 hours a week; maybe it’s something his therapist said, or a position in his yoga class.  Maybe he’s an emotional mess, or he smashed his cock and balls up at a rodeo and they’ve never been the same again.  Impotence seems to be on the rise (don’t hate me for the pun) as we age.  After enough reported cases my gaggle of girlfriends and I added it to The Essential Short List of Go-To Explanations.

There will be the occasional outlier.  You may stumble upon a virgin (Lord help you, or rather- him) who hopes keeping his penis in his pants will still get him a wristband at the pearly gates, or a married man who doesn’t think a little yodeling into the gully of a stranger counts as cheating on his (as yet undisclosed) wife.

Finally, allow me to quickly note why the all-oral-until-the-time-is-right approach is a failed approach: I’m not going to eventually find your gonorrhea as endearing as your dimples, no matter how many times you’ve gotten me off with your mouth.  There’s only one way to know whether or not I’m the type of girl who doesn’t have a size (or firmness) requirement, and it has nothing to do with romantic walks on the beach followed by champagne and gentle licking.  So, slip me some firm, clean cock to remind me that I’m not actually in the home of a highly deceiving dike [Be sure to check out Oprah's new autobiography, "Highly Deceiving Dike".. in stores soon!], and then go back to your business if you like—and make me pay for questioning you if you want (is there such a thing as angry mouth sex?).  I promise once I know I don’t need to complain or worry, I won’t, and then you can rightfully take your place as a God among men. See? Everybody wins.

The scene of the worst date ever recorded...

I have been on many dates in my life.  Some good, some bad and some in between.  There is one night that is the current and probably will forever be the reigning champ for worst first date I have ever been on.  It all started innocently enough after I met this chick at the bar and we talked a few times on the phone and decided to go out to World Famous in Mission Beach for Taco Tuesday.  We did the usual chitchat about family and music and food and what we like to do in our free time and BLAH BLAH BLAH.  No sparks really flew but I can safely say we were enjoying ourselves and the date was going smoothly.

We came a bit later in the night so as we finished up our meal and I paid the bill the place was half full.  Our seat was close to one of the tinted windows which had a good view of the ocean during the day but was hard to see out of at night.  Just as we finished our drinks to leave this guy crept up, banged on the window and screamed “FUCK YOU – I’M GOING TO FUCKING KICK YOUR ASS” among other things in his 30 second expletive laced tirade.  I still remember the whites of his eyes bugging out of his head as he barked into the window standing about 3 feet from us.  We both were startled at first then we looked around the restaurant to see who he was yelling at.  A few of the other patrons noticed but quickly went back to their meals as the guy walked away from the window.  Confused, we both looked at each other wondering what the hell had just happened.

We shook it off and talked a bit more and were about 30 seconds from getting up and leaving. Then. it. happened.  I looked to my right and a 6+ foot black meth head came racing into the restaurant directly towards our table.  I was frozen and had no idea who this guy was or what he was going to do next.  He arrived at the foot of our table as the entire restaurant paused to stare at us to see what was going on.  It was at that point that I thought this guy was going to go Tyson on me but I was still too rattled to do anything.  He was seething mad – he looked Like Ray Lewis right before he shoots the gap trying to tackle a running back.  Well, his eyes looked like Ray Lewis but the rest of him was a different story.  He was covered in sand, dirt and who knows what else clothed only in a swim suit that looked like it had not been off of his body in at least 3 weeks.  He paused for a second and stared at my date.  “You can’t call me a nigger – you bitch!” he shouted and then he spit on her.  That’s right, he fired up a loogie that spattered all over her.  She was shocked – an alien could have landed on our table and done a break-dance routine and she would not have had a more surprised look on her face

OK – now I know what you are thinking – “Did you get up and kick this guys ass to defend your date’s honor?”  Abso-fucking-lutely NOT – I am not about to tussle with a cranked up meth-head for some girl after a first date.  My chivalry level is definitely lower than my self preservation level at that point in a relationship.  After a month – I probably get up and do something but after mediocre date #1 – no way.  The bouncers saw what was going to go down as soon as the guy came in and a couple moments after that fateful loogie left his lips they tossed him out of the bar and I was left with a spit covered date.  20 seconds went by in shocked silence until I said “I never knew that you were such a racist” with a completely straight face.  She didn’t laugh.  I gave her some tissue and my napkin and she dabbed herself off.  I still remember the little flecks of gross meth-head spittle clinging to her hair.

We walked to the car, drove back to her house and never called her again (don’t judge me).  The whole thing was just too traumatic to come back for a second date.  Ask yourself… could you kiss a chick that you saw drenched in hobo spit?  Didn’t think so.

I actually saw her a few months after the incident randomly out at the bar and we have seen each other a few times since and things were awkward at first but eventually everything was fine.  In fact she is trying to set me up with one of her friends… circle of life!

What is your worst first date story?

I have been with the same company for a while and we  have 2 of these events every year.  Each time there are a few “incidents” that make me think “You gotta be fist fucking me – there is no way someone can act like that at WORK”.  Most of the time the offenders don’t even get a slap on the wrist from HR.  The most that ever happens is that a manager sends out and email before the next conference warning not to “make references about body size or shape” or “don’t move from “friendly” to “familiar”.”  we all laugh about it and wonder why managements sends emails to us like we are children… then the events happen and all of those rules are thrown out the window.    Here are a few of my favorite “incidents” to give you an idea of what I am talking about:

Pants Shitting

Apparently someone shit their pants at the conference and no, the guilty party was not an infant.  Yes, a grown man crapped hisself.  I don’t know all of the details of the story but apparently it culminated in the offending party calling one of his coworkers and telling them that they had to leave because he had the continence of a 95 year old man.  Unbelievable – the only way I could see this possibly happening is if he gambled and lost trying to let a fart squeeze by.  I can’t stress this enough – hold back that gas if there is even a tiny chance that you may let a slider slip out.  They may have to include that line in the “warning” email that they send next year.

Infidelity

This goes hand in hand with the Vegas comment that I opened up the post with.  I have never seen so many men and women cheat on their spouses as I have at these events.  It is like a swingers party except the next week the same chick that got “eiffel tower”-ed the week before sits a cube down from you every other day.  Awwwwwwkward!  It is almost past the point of shock when I hear the stories – there have been more than 10 different occasions where I have credible knowledge of people fucking around at these events.  If my wife ever thought about going to one of these I would shackle her to the radiator until the conference was over.  I would sooner have her go to an “ex-boyfriend convention” than to hang out with her colleagues for a few days.

Drunkenness

“Go get me a drink bitch” said the Sales Director to his employee.  This happens all the time – people get fucked up and start saying things that they shouldn’t.  In a conference in San Francisco that same sales director decided it was a great idea to swing at one of his employees, swear at guys from a competing product and tell our own CEO to “fuck off”.  That douche bag is still with the company – unbelievable.  In another “incident” one of the executives was wasted and fell down the stairs of the bar we were at.  He bit it hard and hurt his leg.  A bunch of his underlings quickly surrounded him and led him into a taxi.  It looked like when John Hinkley tried to assassinate Reagan and the secret service was dragging him back to the motorcade.  That same CEO addressed us the next afternoon at 2PM and made a comment that he felt it was too early in the morning for him to be out on stage.  Ummm, dickhead?  Its not 7AM… wake the fuck up!  The company doesn’t pay you millions a year to act like Snookie on spring break!

Overall Douchiness

There is one guy in my company who thinks it is very appropriate to get “jiggy” with it every fucking time music comes on.  His style can be described as seizure-like.  Everyone eggs him on though and he seems to enjoy himself.  I guess it is a source of entertainment but when I see someone grind on the humpbacked freak from the Marketing department it makes me want to gouge my eyes out.

“Euro Activity”

One last thing that I noticed at these events is that if you are a European at a US company you can pretty much get away with anything and it is blamed on their “Euro-ness”.  At the formal cocktail hour everyone was wearing slacks and suit jackets and some guy from Italy has jeans, a t-shirt and some expensive Italian shoes on and everyone is cool with it.  If one of the French reps would have lit up a smoke in one of the training sessions I don’t think anyone would have given a shit.  I need to work for a European company and then I can blame anything I do on being an ugly American – that would be sweet.

Do you have any “incidents” that you care to share with the group?

Throughout my dating existence I have been in many different types of relationships and each one has its own quirks and eccentricities.  Everyone is different and when those people pair up it creates unique circumstances and scenarios for the people involved making every relationship its own special entity.  Amongst these differences though there are similarities that an outsider can see working in all of these different pairings.  I have observed these similarities in my own and my friend’s relationships and most of the time I see someone’s actions and a song starts playing in my head – these are the relationships and their appropriate lyrics.  So here we go…

Top Nine “Musical” Relationships

The INXS (AKA – The “Never Tear Us Apart” Relationship)

These are the people who start dating and NEVER leave each other’s side.  If you are friends with one of the people and not the other it can cause MAJOR problems.  You basically need to accept them as a tandem and if you invite the one person somewhere you are inviting the other by proxy.  It is like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich except the peanut butter (your friend) can be paired up with some kind of fucked up organic marmalade jelly that sucks.  If you want the peanut butter though you need to swallow it.

The U2 (AKA – The “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”Relationship)

These types of pairing usually happen in a relatively quick succession and is usually because your friend tries to insert their new love interest into their friend scene a bit too soon.  If you are not going to date this person for more than 2 months then its not even worth the hassle of introducing them to everyone you know.  It always leads to confusion and maybe even calling the new hook-up by a different name.  Its not my fault if you are dating a new dude every few weeks… don’t bring him around or have him wear a name tag!

The War (AKA  – The “Why Can’t We Be Friends” Relationship)

It is never clear if there is any sex going on with this set up.  Usually they have been in dating for a long time and it seems that they can comfortably date/live/hang out together and not have too many problems except that they have become almost like siblings.  I always feel bad for these people even though most of the time they look pretty happy!

The Journey (AKA – The “Don’t Stop Believin’” Relationship)

This is a cousin of “The U2″ except it is different because of its extended shelf life.  When you ask your friend “So… whats the story with Sally?” and he tells you that he hates her and she is a total bitch then a week later they are cuddling up with each other out at the bar then your friend is in this type of relationship.  The biggest thing with this is to reserve your shit talking about the other party until you are SURE that it is over.  Any premature trash talking can get you alienated from your friend when they get back together until they dump their significant other for good.

The Cake (AKA – The “Never There” Relationship)

You know your friend is dating someone but you never actually see them.  Usually the only time that you hear about them is when your friend is complaining about something otherwise they are a non-factor.  Their boyfriend/girlfriend either works a lot, doesn’t like going out or they are embarrassed about dating them… or maybe all of the above.

The Carpenter’s (AKA – The “Why Do Birds Suddenly Appear Every Time You Are Near” Relationship)

Everything seems to be going well and they are in a committed healthy relationship.  How inconsiderate of them!

The Nine Inch Nails (AKA – the “I Want To Fuck You Like An Animal” Relationship)

This couple is way too fucking lovey-dovey.  They are constantly holding hands and making out in public to the point where everyone is a bit uncomfortable.  Take it easy on the PDA Casanova, you don’t need to dry hump your chick when you are in line at the movies!

The Rolling Stones ( AKA – The “You Can’t Always Get What You Want…” Relationship)

This is where one party is way more powerful in the relationship than the other person and it leads to cringe inducing situations where one person completely dominates the other.  With these kind of couples the person decided long ago that the abuser had something that they could not do without and, to them, it is worth putting up with that kind of abuse.  It makes no sense to outsiders but when in this type of relationship you think any outsider’s opinions are worthless.  Save your breath on convincing your friend to break up with their lover – you are wasting your time.

The ELO (The “It’s Gonna Be A Showdown” Relationship)

These 2 secretly hate each other and should have broken things off long ago.  There is no known reason why they are still together.  Maybe it is too much of a pain in the ass to break up?  Maybe they don’t want to be alone? Whatever it is, they are passive aggressively hateful and even the smallest annoyances can set them off into thinly veiled insults.  If you go out to dinner with this couple get ready for some awkward silences and be ready to get the check and go home.

Did I miss any?  Which “musical” relationships have you been in?

Don’t ask me how it works - I think It has something to do with Testosterone, Etstrogen or maybe Chlorophyll.  No matter how hard a guy tries there is always a percentage of him that at his core is an asshole and craziness just comes naturally to women (I know these are broad generalizations and I am certainly no relationship guru but hear me out - and if you can’t then go back to work… OK, still with me?  Good).   There is no way around it, that’s just how it is.  To make my argument a little clearer it would probably be helpful for me to explain exactly what I mean by “crazy” and “bastard”. 

The craziness in women generally comes from accentuating a certain feeling on a situation to the point where it defies common logic.  If someone has been dating a chick for a while obviously he thinks that she is attractive but if she does not feel attractive for any given reason and the guy makes an innocuous comment about her looks it could end in disaster.  It doesn’t make sense but it becomes a reality due to the “crazy”.  Men are bastards because they can take logic to such an extreme that decisions do not take into account the feelings behind their actions or what they can represent.  Every action is not some grand proclamation on the state of the relationship or an event that needs to be dissected to figure out its true meaning.  This is the central cause of all relationship problems and if people could accept this and take it into consideration when dealing with the opposite sex then the world would be a much better place.  Don’t believe me?  How about some examples:

1 – In college there was this guy who lived in my house that was a man-whore of the dirtiest kind.  He would sleep with anything (his 2 requirements, 1 – Pulse 2 – vagina).  He wasn’t bad looking  but to paint a better picture of this guy – he once passed out in my room (on the floor) watching football and he smelled so bad we sprayed him with Lysol.  Anyways, he was fighting with his on-again-off again girlfriend who he would hang out with whenever he had nothing else going on.  These fights were a regular occurrence and a few of my other friends and I would pretend to play Madden an adjacent room and eavesdrop on their fights.  It was pure comedy.  She would spout off nonsense about them progressing their relationship to the next level and he would just blow her off or twist the argument to make it sound like she was being a bitch.  It the classic crazy/bastard dynamic… she was crazy enough to rationalize in her own mind that this was a legitimate relationship and he was enough of a bastard to let her hang in the wind with these misguided notions when he would never be what she wanted him to be and he knew it.  She had this picture of him and how things could be that she held on to rather than logically looking at how he treated her and dumping the asshole.  Predictably their relationship ended in a blaze of glory with her storming out of the house after a especially vicious fight exclaiming “You don’t know what you want… but you want it ALL”.  Truer (or crazier) words have never been spoken.

2 – From personal experience I love me some crazy girl.  I don’t know what it is about them but there is some sort of attraction to the chaos that an especially crazy girl can bring to any situation.  I make most of my decisions based on logic and thinking things through from a calculated perspective so I need an infusion of emotion every now and again as a change of pace.  Since I can’t do it myself I look to the women in my life to do it for me.  It has definitely caused me heartache but I still go back (wait… that sounds illogical and crazy – scratch that, it kills my argument).  I have had a glass of water dumped on my head for no reason (I swear, was not my fault – ask the other people who were at the table innocently chewing on their sushi), moved to San Diego on a whim and broken up and got back together with a girl 8 times - all for the “crazy”.  It doesn’t help that the hotter a person is usually coincides with how much of a bastard or crazy that they are.  If a chick is smoking hot I am much more likely to put up with drunken nights of crying or lashing out if the makeup sex it good.

There is something about the “crazy” or the “bastard” in all of us that hypnotizes the opposite sex.  Everyone wants what they can’t have and in this instance what we can’t have is a different prism to view life through.  While this idea is not ALWAYS true it works most of the time – roles can definitely be reversed.  In reality it boils down to why we are so different as men and women and if we could only see those differences more clearly and adapt to them we would be far happier in our relationships.

Do you have any “crazy” or “bastard” stories to back me up…  or show me how completely-fucking-wrong I am?