Archive for July, 2012

As a singleton you are using many Social Media Marketing techniques to let people know you are looking. Being a member of 100hookup, being friends with 100hookup on Facebook, following 100hookup on Twitter and so forth. People will then click on your various profiles to learn more about you. That is why having a lot of photos of you with various dates, or repeatedly with the same date whom you are not in an official relationship with, is not a smart idea.

A guy I know is dating someone, but considers himself single. Unfortunately for him, she checks in everywhere they go and tags him in every post. So if he were to meet someone and she were to go to his page to learn more about him, it would appear he was in a relationship.

So use Social Media wisely when dating. Don’t put crazy, passive-aggressive, emotional, vague or too revealing posts on your page. Think about what you want people to learn about you when they read your posts and look at your photos. What do you want your profiles to say about you?

I’ve never understood people with pets. I love dogs. I’ve always had a dog. Not the same dog. Well I mean the same dog for a while. Until the dog got old, or got hit by a car, or got old and got hit by a car. No matter how many times I told that damn dog to look both ways, he almost never did because, as I would later learn, cognitive development is much different in a dog than in a person. When I was young I tried to teach my dog to understand simple phrases like, ‘Please stop pooping on my face’, to which the dog replied by walking into my room and defecating on my face. I later learned that not only did my dog understand none of what I was telling him, but I was actually encouraging this behavior by feeding her and then immediately laying on my back on the floor of my room.

Dogs are stupid, and when I say I don’t understand people with pets, I mean that I don’t understand people who dictate their lives by the whims and misconceived emotional nuances of pets. I’m all for letting my dog outside to use the bathroom. I’ll even feed my dog once every week or so to reward her for good behavior. Anything beyond that is ridiculous and pointless. Dogs can’t understand anything you will or have ever said to them outside of a few key words like ‘eat’, ‘walk’, and if they’re smart, which they’re not, because they’re dogs, ‘don’t poop on my face’. Anything else you have or ever will say to a dog will go over their tiny stupid dog heads. Don’t ask them questions. This is especially true if you are in the company of other people. The dog will not respond to you, and you will look stupid, because you just asked a dog a verbal question, and the dog just stared at you and shat on your carpet. Don’t pretend you know how a dog is feeling if that feeling is anything other than hungry, horny, or sleepy. This is what human interaction is for.

Cat people are even worse. I’m not saying I won’t date a cat person. I’ll date anybody. I think I need to clarify that by ‘cat people’ I mean people that really like cats and not people that are victims of genetic experiments that successfully breed felines and women. I just don’t understand them. If you’re looking for companionship, a cat is the last place you should look. I have a clock on my desk at home, and my relationship with that clock is so much more intimate, meaningful, and beautiful than anybody’s relationship with a cat will ever be. Cats are antisocial and usually unresponsive. It would seem like if you are depressed, and you decided to adopt a cat, you would be dead within two weeks. If cats were people, they wouldn’t be, because even the worst people in the world turn their heads and look at you when you say their name.

I realize that by writing this post, I’ve officially closed the lid on my chances for any remaining women to like me. I’m a really good person. I’m just out of topics, and when trying to think of something to write about, I turned around, and my cat was glaring at me, and I knew this must be written.

The thing about my ex was that he was the first nice guy I had met in a very long time. The kind of guy who was sweet, had integrity and manners. Who would get me a glass of water without even checking to see if I was thirsty. Who would wake up in the morning with me and want to spend the rest of the day together. Who would ask me if my toes were cold while watching a movie at his place and grab me a pair of socks before I could even answer the question.

I can’t help but blame him for initiating my cry-before-every-date routine. When I started dating again, I would spontaneously burst into tears just as I was getting dressed for a date. Do you know how hard it is to apply eyeliner while you are simultaneously crying every spec off? Hard. Very, very hard. Still, I would somehow manage to get myself out the door and on the date. One night, I was out with this guy and it was freezing cold and raining outside. We were at the bar talking and flirting, when he suddenly interrupts to point out a girl wearing an extremely revealing dress for the dead of winter and 5” stilettos. “I like girls in heels. Do you wear heels?” he asked. I tried to explain that while I love a good pair of heels as much as the next girl, the weather did not call for stilettos. It called for my very cute, stable black boots, which frankly I looked adorable in. He seemed to nod along to my rationale, but then added, “You’d look good in heels.” Okay, dude. I get the point. I made the wrong shoe choice. But honestly, if I had worn heels I would have been his height. And I’m only 5’2!

This is what I call a Dating Downgrade. In 3 months, I went from a guy who was genuinely concerned when my feet were too cold to a guy who expected me to wear spike high heels in the dead of winter. There is no question that this guy was a jerk, but not every guy is. The nice guys are out there – and I promise you they want your feet warm and happy. So whatever you do, try and remember this one thing. Don’t let the schmucks get you down.

You’re single, you’re looking… and you’re wearing a ring on your left hand? WTH!? I don’t care how cute or trendy you think it is, people will think you are engaged or married! You have 9 other fingers, use those! Men in particular should not wear a ring on their left ring finger because men’s rings look exactly the same, whether they are decorative or a symbol of your devotion to your wife. But women have so many options! It could be a giant flower or a tiny animal, it doesn’t matter, wear it on another finger! When someone is interested in you they will glance down at your left hand and if they see even a glimmer of something on your left right finger they will immediately disregard you as a possibility. Why eliminate prospects?

The only reason I am writing this post is so that my coworkers at work won’t want to kill themselves at about 2:30 today. However, this is not just philanthropic. I also want to hear laughs all around me while you guys are reading this. Laugh! If you happen to be someone far from my desk, Morgan, laugh much harder. If anyone asks why you’re laughing, tell them that your pregnancy has made you lose touch with reality and run out of the office yelling some nonsense about how you must immediately go to the beach so that you can lay your egg with all of the other sea turtles.

Okay, I’m not going to mention anybody else here. I don’t want to play favorites. I also don’t want to get into any kind of trouble. You’re all my favorite. Kind of like how during school, whoever happened to be sitting next to you at lunch on Friday was your favorite because you were in the midst of eating a fried chicken sandwich.

I’m not going to talk about work anymore. I’ve said too much. Let’s stay on topic.

I’m at a weird place where I don’t exactly have to lie to women anymore, but I also shouldn’t really tell them the truth. Yeah, I make enough money to feed myself and go out on weekends, so I don’t really have to lie about my income, but that’s partly because I’m not married, and my only investments consist of products you can regularly buy at Subway, Chili’s, and websites that sell socks. I’ve lost a lot of weight, so I don’t have to post misleading photos on my profile, but I haven’t really groomed my body at all below my neck since the weight has come off. I wear my mouthpiece at night now at night to prevent my teeth from grinding, so my mouth no longer looks like I habitually abuse crystal meth. But since I didn’t use that mouthpiece for so long my teeth will eventually be ground down enough to the point where I will look somewhat homeless, which will actually be appropriate, because I will be completely homeless. Homeless people almost never wear their nighttime orthopedic mouth guards. They are so irresponsible.

1. Flock of Segels?

Jason Segel and Michelle Williams have been acting like two lovebirds for months, but now Segel is taking the relationship one step further as he spends more and more time with Williams’ daughter, Matilda.

Over the weekend, Segel (who is hookup) was photographed on his way in to see the Broadway musical Jersey Boys with Williams and her little one, according to US Weekly. They were later photographed shopping at a Duxiana bedding store in New York City. And the following afternoon, the trio dined together before strolling through Brooklyn, where Williams resides. It appears this Segel is totally nesting!

 2. Too Hot… And Too Sweet!

Dylan Lauren has been named one of the “World’s Hottest Billionaire Offspring” by the Sydney Morning Herald. Lauren is the only daughter of the legendary hookup fashion icon Ralph Lauren, a graduate of Duke University, and a candy capitalist!

Inspired by Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, Dylan created Dylan’s Candy Bar, an international confectionery chain. Lauren opened her first store in New York ten years ago and will be opening another location in Los Angeles late this summer, according to the company’s website.

Dylan, who is 38-years-old, is also an author who recently came out with a book entitled Unwrap Your Sweet Life. Now she can add “hottie” to her resume, thanks to the Sydney Morning Herald.

 3. Jesse Eisenberg is Free as a Bird

The bird is the word for Jesse Eisenberg. The hookup actor voiced the lead blue macaw in Rio and is now fronting a campaign to save exotic birds on behalf of the Human Society of the United States, AKA HSUS.

“If an animal’s natural home is in the wild, then chances are, that’s where it belongs,” Eisenberg states in a new PSA. “Unfortunately, the demand for these intelligent, complex creatures — whether captive-bred or wild-caught — is decimating the wild parrot species.” He adds, “Although Blue is a much loved pet, he has no idea what it’s like to be a bird. He doesn’t even know how to fly. It’s only when he gets a taste of the wild that he discovers his true self and how he ended up in a cage.”

We think Eisenberg’s involvement in the new campaign is totally for the birds… and that’s a good thing!

This may not seem like an obvious topic, but there are words we all use that are not, well, so nice sounding. In fact, they can be misconstrued as being flirtatious when it’s not, or being raunchy when it’s not. For example, rather than saying “I like my meat rare” say “I prefer my steak cooked rare.” Hear the difference? The former sentence can be misinterpreted as a sexual advance when all you are trying to do is order food! Of course, some people make these inferences on purpose, but don’t make any assumptions as to what someone hears versus your intentions. Same thing with talking about “balls.”

Other words simply may conjure up unpleasing images. Talking about loving babies, because you truly love kids, may freak out a guy who is not ready to be a dad yet. Talking about feet, or toilets, or stains, or body odor are all no-no’s during the first few dates. Even if you’re telling a joke. Why would you want to mention something that gives most people the willie-nillies? Filter yourself.

Make sure you remember your 100hookup’s name when you’re out on a date. That may sound weird, but most people are going on multiple dates, shmoozing with multiple 100hookuprs online, playing phone tag with others, exchanging emails with even more 100hookuprs. So it’s not such a big stretch to possibly forget your 100hookup’s name. And if you are meeting at a hookup event, there is definitely way too much opportunity to forget someone’s name. I haven’t even mentioned alcohol, which doesn’t help the situation. So when you meet someone and when you’re on the way to a date, say your name’s date a number of times in your head. Then use it in a natural way when you’re addressing your date or new prospect. Don’t make it obvious by saying the name with every sentence because that’s just obnoxious, but enough times to remind yourself who you’re sitting across from so you don’t draw a blank at the most inopportune time.

Never go into anything with high expectations. Never look forward to dinner with friends, because you will get in a car wreck on the way to the restaurant. Never look forward to getting that call from that girl because she won’t call, and if she does, it will be an accidental call while trying to dial her actual boyfriend, Brad Pitt, because this fake scenario is happening in 1995. Never look forward to that European vacation because your plane will crash over the Atlantic and you will have to stay alive, while floating around and feeding on your dead family.

Almost anything that you have or will ever be excited about will be at least somewhat of a letdown. Even your happiest memories are marred by something that you either choose to ignore or have forced your brain to forget to preserve that perfect story. You think the first time you were intimate with a woman was great? Think about that really hard. Remember how you were in the backseat in your tiny car in your childhood driveway and had to contort your body so that you could fit and then your left leg fell asleep and you started sweating profusely, while constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure your parents didn’t see you? What part about that memory was great?

Nothing in life is good. All that is good comes from distorted recollections based around selected repressed memories. Life sucks, but thinking about life can be great. Why do you think The Hunger Games trilogy was so much more successful than The Unauthorized Autobiography of Joseph Lieberman trilogy, other than the fact that I just made up the latter? It’s because real life is boring, disappointing, and painful.

My date tomorrow evening is going to be awful, and I’m going to go into it knowing that. I expect nothing but disappointment. However, if even one good thing happens, I will hopefully be able to repeatedly replay that part in my mind until it is all I can remember about that event. If the very slim chance that we end up getting married comes true, then that one positive memory will become the official story of how we met.

Once upon a 100hookup, I was out at a really cool speakeasy in the Lower East Side with a guy who was just my type. We were having a good time – I was actually laughing at what he was saying, not just my own ridiculous stories. He was starting to tell me that he recently took a salsa dancing class and suggested we go. I laughed it off assuming he meant at another time, but he kept talking about it.

“We should go salsa dancing,” he said.
“Now?” Uhh, seriously?
“Yeah. I know a great place. Or we can go to that bar you mentioned in Chinatown.”
“Let’s go to the bar. It’s called Apotheke,” I said. Crisis averted.

To be fair, salsa dancing is a good idea for a date – just not a first date. First dates are about getting to know someone – NOT going salsa dancing so your date can show off what they learned at a lesson they bought on Groupon. But once I got him to Apotheke, the date started to rebound. This was the first time I had fun on a date in a while. I started to relax and let my guard down when out of left field he says, “After this we should go salsa dancing.”

I should have left when I had the chance.

“Not tonight. Maybe another time,” I offered.
“No problem. Let’s go to another bar.”
I froze. ALERT! STAGE FIVE CLINGER!
“Ready to go?” he asked.

Yeah. Home! I panicked. This guy was not going to let me go easy. It was a salsa dancing or bust. I stared down at my phone to look at the time to stall and think of a plan. Instead of thinking of a polite way to excuse myself, I panicked.

“Oh no! My roommate just texted me. She forgot her keys and is locked out of our apartment.” This wasn’t a total lie. My roommate did actually get locked out…it just happened to be the week before.

As soon as we walked out onto Canal Street, a cab pulled up and I hopped in. I barely had a chance to wave goodbye. It wasn’t quite the graceful exit I hope I usually pull off on a bad date, and certainly not my proudest moment. Had Mr. Salsa Dancer and I parted ways after the first bar, he would have absolutely gotten a second date. But no. He came on so strong in the first date that he actually scared me off. Since then, I’ve tried to take what I learned that night to prevent it from ever happening again. I even created a rule about it: Thou shall only go to one bar on the first date, unless they want to risk exposure to a Stage Five Clinger Salsa Dancer Who Just Can’t Take a Hint. Don’t let it happen to you.