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2014 is the year of mediocrity

The first step in meeting new people is messaging all the girls you used to get attention from. If any of them responds back to you, then, it’s cool, you can stay home and masturbate for the rest of the night/week/year. When none of them respond to you, unfortunately, that is when you have to leave the house. Put your good boxers on, brush your teeth, debate whether that shirt that you really like from 5 years ago still fits, and convince yourself that no one can see the pee stain on your jeans.

Preparation. The key to getting yourself in a good mindset is to check yourself out in the mirror as often as possible. Nitpick all the parts of you that you are insecure about. Big nose? Better believe it. Balding? Check. Acne? Until I die. This will surely give you the confidence to approach and mingle with any woman you see and as bonus you are setting yourself for a future visit to your trusty therapist. Confidence is important and you need to develop it before you even leave the house. What are you good at? What makes you special? Oh, you’re the #198 best Starcraft player in Canada? Open with that. Girls love Starcraft.

Eye contact. This is not as straightforward as people would have you believe. People are always telling me to maintain eye contact. I think that’s a good rule of thumb but it doesn’t cover the most important part of the equation: blinking. Don’t ever forget to blink. Not blinking will kill any chance you ever had of going on a semi-platonic date with the person you’re talking to. Semi-platonic, of course, means that you think it’s a real date, but she’s just being nice. Also, I think you have to find a middle ground between “weird dude who stares” and “weird dude who stares at the ground a lot”. I mean, you are a weird dude, but you might as well be the weird dude who seems like he’s actually paying attention.

Gauging interest. Of course, you would never start talking about your penis the first time you have a conversation with someone. That would be madness. Start off slowly, ask the easy questions. What’s your name? Where do you work? Do you have any siblings. This should at least get you to a second conversation when you finally come back from the bathroom after hyperventilating for 20 minutes because a pretty girl responded to you. Now, you can gauge any sexual interest your new partner might have by immediately talking about your penis. Have a big penis? Tell her. Have a small penis? Tell her you have a big penis. This is quickest way to get into someones pants. No, I’m sorry, that’s the quickest way to add another person to your “facebook stalking” list. But it’s cool, the list needed an update.

Expectations vs. Reality. (i’m stealing this from 500 days of Summer, a movie that was written a few years before I had the chance to). The reality is that your day ends with you going home, masturbating and watching increasingly bizarre pornography for the past -- your whole life. The reality is that you are usually the guy who is always pretending to text people at parties but are actually just refreshing Facebook. The reality is that it’s 11:18pm on a Saturday night and you’re writing about meeting people instead of, uhh, meeting people. With all that said, the expectations you carry when you go out should be at the level of “absurdly unattainable”. Tell yourself, yes, tonight is the night that you are going to have sex with that girl you’ve only been stalking on facebook. This is Barack Obama’s America and YES WE CAN.

dating advice from a confused jew on fathers day

The third most sweat inducing experience of one’s life is probably the “first date”. The first two, of course, being actually talking to the opposite sex in the first place and masturbating while your parents are home. The first date slots nicely into third place. We all ask the same questions. What am I going to wear? Where should I take him/her? What should we talk about? How come I only have 34$ in my bank account? I’m here to tell you, you aren’t alone. We can get through this. Together. Dating is hard but recently I’ve given less and less thought about it and gotten slightly better at it. The question we all have of “am I going to end up alone?” is a good question and probably should motivate you to go out and meet your better half even though, yes, you are going to end up alone.

Disclaimer: The advice you are about to receive was written by someone, me, who by all accounts is a moron.

The first rule of dating is LISTEN TO THE PERSON SITTING ACROSS FROM YOU. I cannot stress that enough. The only thing people like better than you remembering what they’ve told you is Jon Hamm (people love that guy). So unless you actually are Don Draper, you’re gonna need to remember that story she told you about how one time a horse licked her and she laughed. Step two is to bring it up later in a different conversation. This is called a reference or call back and you don’t have to be Dennis Miller to be good at it. This will make you seem interested and funny even if neither of them are true. You are now one step closer to a second date or getting laid.

Step 2: Wear something baggy whether it be jeans or a shirt with a dragon on it. That last line was sarcasm. Please don’t do that. Wear something that fits and makes you look like a normal human being. Your date isn’t going to remember you because you wore a t-shirt with an ironic slogan on it, she’s going to remember you because you followed step one. On the same note as clothing, smelling good is a major bonus. I learned this much later in my life than I should have. These days, I always wear cologne when I go out. I imagine my old smell of “Urine by Seth” didn’t really go over very well with the ladies. The better you smell the closer your potential mate will sit to you.

Thirdly, it doesn’t matter where you go or what you do. It really doesn’t. Whether you go skydiving or play mini putt or lie on the grass and look at the stars, the only thing that matters is that there is a clear line of communication. This is what grown-up’s do. They talk to each other. If you can’t talk to the other person than you can’t follow step one and you will end up masturbating on saturday night. (Note: masturbating is never a bad thing, but it is also never your number one option on a saturday night) When you talk, try to be as self-deprecating as possible. It works. It makes you vulnerable and you will get sympathy from your date when you call yourself “a moron, by all accounts” (see what I did there?)

If you follow these three steps I guarantee success. Of course, success is relative so by following these points, you may end up, on a saturday night, just writing an essay about how to date instead of actually dating but let me tell you, it is slightly more interesting than masturbating. Slightly

cuddling, spooning and a couple ghostbusters references

Congratulations, you got someone to commit themselves to at least a couple minutes of body on body contact with you. This is cuddling and it’s great. Girls love this shit and guys secretly love it to. You can’t really be bad at it, it’s fun for everyone involved (unlike the sequel to this post which is going to be about sex and me), it’s can last forever (unlike the sequel to this post which is going to be about sex and me) and it will be get you major brownie points with your lover/friend/pillow. Unfortunately, in my lifetime, I’ve only been the “spoon-er” part of the cuddling/spoon situation and never the “spoon-ee” so what follows is only from that perspective.

Boners. They’re gonna happen. The natural response is probably to play them off like it doesn’t exist, the spoon-ee is probably too nervous to make a comment about and you don’t have enough blood left in your head to communicate efficiently with another human being. The problem is that the spoon-ee knows. Trust me. From a cuddling position, the only position you can safely erect your boner is from the “tucked up” position. I’m not going to write in detail about the tucked up position, you all know it from Superbad. There is no way that anyone can not feel a hardened rod in the small of their back. Ignoring it doesn’t solve the problem. Being ashamed when you’re cuddling with your favorite stuffed animal and it’s scent (you know, your moms perfume that you coat “Mr. Bunny” with so as to not have to cry yourself to sleep at night) gets all the blood flowing to your penis and you feel like you are only person in the world who has ever gotten an erection is not the best way to handle things. Just make a joke. Cut the tension in the room swiftly and without remorse. Use lines like, “is it hot in here or is it just you...and oh by the way I have a boner” or “everytime we touch, i feel closer to heaven...and oh by the way I have a boner”.

Don’t try to reverse the spoon. There is a natural order to things. A wise man once said to me, “Once a big spoon, always a big spoon. Once a little spoon, always a little spoon”. If you’re the spoon-er, you’re significant other probably wants to feel protected from the world and you being the big spoon is helping this situation greatly. I’ve heard that reversing the spoon might cause total protonic reversal (just imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light). That’s an important safety tip. The little spoon has a lot on their plate, they can’t all of a sudden become the big spoon. The big spoon has a lot of responsibility and if that means getting a mouthful of hair and possibly choking on it, then so be it.

Your arm is gonna get tired and numb eventually and Friends ended like a decade ago, so please don’t use the Ross “hug n’ roll”. You need a way to get your arm out of from under your spoon buddy. You can’t leave it there all night or you won’t be able to masturbate in the shower the following morning. There is no easy way to do this, in fact there is no way to do this without both parties acknowledging that the cuddling sesh’ is about to end. If you are both mature adults, this should be no problem. Ending the session with a gentle kiss on the cheek/forehead is great way to depart. Alternatively, a cute line also works, maybe something like, “babe, i’m gonna roll over and go to sleep, i can’t wait for you to be the first thing i see in the morning...and oh by the way i have a boner”

p.s. i’m sorry for the “erect your boner” line.

p.p.s. i was definitely listening to "kiss from a rose" by seal while writing this

a little bit on plato and slightly more on platonic relationships

i think the only reason the term “platonic love” exists is because plato got friendzoned 2500 years ago.

“she just wants to be friends”, said plato

“oh sorry dude, i know you thought she was the one”, replied his underage male friend

“no it’s cool, we decided to call ourselves ‘lovers without benefits’ and i’m helping her move next weekend”

the first thing you need to do when you become the unintended guest in a platonic relationship is, of course, never give up hope that this relationship status will change. don’t stop thinking about this person 24/7. this means that when you are washing the dishes, this person should pop into your head. this means that when you are driving in traffic, this person should appear next to you in the car and this, certainly, means that when you are masturbating, this person should help you orgasm. you’re really not gonna get over someone until you squeezed every last thought that you can possibly have about them out of your head. you might as well just make their facebook profile your homepage to save time.

since you’ve not given up hope, remember that the next time you hang out with this person, continually bring up your feelings in an attempt to sway the other person’s feelings to get them to touch your penis or even just cuddle with you. if you keep bringing it up, one of two things will happen: either a) the other person will eventually get fed up and stop talking to you and you’ll have no choice but to shift your feelings to someone else (unless you’ve already done the facebook-profile-homepage-thing in which case you’re fucked, have fun using your tears as lubricant) or b) which is...wait no, there is no option “b”, you’re just fucked.

misinterpret every single thing this person tells you. when this person tells you, “i’m clipping my toenails” it really means, “i’m clipping my toenails and thinking about how we can be together for the rest of our lives”. on the same note, remember every moment from every single time the two of you hung out or texted each other or spoke on the phone (wait no, people don’t speak on the phone anymore) because the other person probably won’t remember anything. one of you is going to have to keep a database of the whole relationship and it’s not gonna be them. it goes without saying that you should never delete any text messages or other caht transcripts, cuz if you are feeling lonely the only way to cure your loneliness is to re-live that text message where the other person wrote, “hey, you’re a really good friend, can you help me move next week?” over and over and over

how am i supposed to keep coming up with original content when louis ck keeps stealing all my material

i don’t think i do enough things during any particular day (besides play fifa on my 360) to actually have enough new material to keep writing things. coming up with new things is hard when all you want to do is nap and watch old episodes of will and grace. so with that said here is some more immature writing about the daily minutiae of my life.

this is how my weekday goes:

i set my sleep cycle alarm to 8:05 and i have it set to play “break of dawn” by michael jackson. i thought this would be a good idea because at the beginning of the song there are a whole bunch of birds chirping and it’s soothing and then the music starts and it’s so smooth and i could just pop out of bed, throw open my blinds and exhale very deeply while looking at the sunshine as the light fills my room with eternal bliss. this does not happen. in reality, i hit the snooze button atleast 3 times before the my penis hurts so much from all the urine build up that i force myself to run to the bathroom. also let me point out that the change in temperature from being under my blankets to anywhere else on the planet is some sort of analogy that i can’t think of right now (i thought about some hans solo being frozen reference but i’ve never really actually watched star wars). when i get back to my room after peeing, i have 2 options: a) i can open the lights and start getting dressed or b) i can get back into the inferno under my blankets and close my eyes for another 46 seconds. the days where i choose option b) i end up dreaming about getting dressed and eating breakfast, which, when i do open my eyes again is the most disappointing thing anyone can go through. at this point i jump out of bed because it’s 8:11 and i need to at least make myself presentable for work.

clothing. once again, i am presented with 3 options. i can either take 15 minutes picking out things that match and are of the “collared shirt” variety so as to really class things up, or i can pop on an ironic t-shirt (ghostbusters, arrested development, i even have a shirt that has what looks like a pocket but it’s not actually a pocket) or i can wear whatever the fuck i was wearing yesterday. generally i choose the last option. to be sure, i give the pants that are on my bedroom floor a quick smell test. if the pants smell like a butthole, then i won’t wear them. if they smell like MY butthole, then it’s fair game.

breakfast. when you are allowed to wake up whenever you please (like on a sunday morning) breakfast is a beautiful meal. when you are woken up by your alarm after only 5 and a half hours of sleep, all food looks and smells like a butthole (which of course is ok for my pants, but not for my apple sauce). i end up staring into the fridge for what feels like my entire life because nothing looks appealing enough to throw down my gullet.

making myself look pretty. after the fiasco of trying to decide whether to eat a piece of toast, cereal or a banana, i head to the bathroom to sigh at myself in the mirror before brushing my teeth and slapping my face with oxy pads. this reminds me: am i gonna have shitty acne for the rest of my life? i remember thinking when i was 15 years old, “am i gonna have shitty acne for the rest of my life?” and then at 16, “am i gonna have shitty acne for the rest of my life?” and then at 17... well you get the point. when i die, people are gonna be staring my lifeless body in the casket and think, “if only he would have used proactiv when he 18”.

editors note: the continuation of this idea (as in the rest of my day) will be up if i ever decide to write it down.

p.s. because of the birds in the beginning of the michael jackson song, i now want to murder every bird like michael rappaport playing phoebe's cop boyfriend did in that episode of friends

how to talk about hip hop if you are a middle class jew

In the 25 years that I’ve walked this planet, I’ve realized that most people hate themselves in some manner. We smoke, we drink, we shoot up, we watch reality TV. We hate ourselves. As a self-loathing Jew from a middle class family, my dream was always to be anything but Jewish. I hated having to sit through 2 hour seders just to eat unleavened bread. This self-loathing manifested itself in one particular way. I wanted to be black. I wanted to struggle. I didn’t want my dad to drive me to school in his Acura - my parents were reformed hippies, a beamer would’ve been too much - I wanted to take the subway. I wanted to fight for something bigger than me. Blackness was something. It was anything. And hip hop music was the expression of a generation of young black men who didn’t have daddy’s beamer to take three blocks to the corner store. Here below is a semi-informal guide on how to impress your friends with your knowledge of hip hop culture if you are a middle class Jew:

Listen to A Tribe Called Quest. In my opinion, hip hop and rap music starts with A Tribe Called Quest. First of all, they were really good. Secondly, they wore dashikis and shit like that. That’s really cool, I think. Go on ebay or etsy right now and try to find a good dashiki to wear to school or work next week. I guarantee you will be granted a head nod from the one black guy who works at your office. Tribe helped push forward rap music and their lineage can be felt in contemporary acts like Pharell and Kanye West among others. Q-Tip, Phife Dawg and Ali Shaheed Muhammed pioneered jazz sampling in their music. Next time, you’re chilling and listening to Tribe, nonchalantly praise Q-Tip’s ear for good samples and mention how much you like Ali’s bass playing.

Bonus: Phife Dawg once rhymed about how we could skate on your crew like Mario Lemieux. That’s a hockey reference. Talk about genre-bending.

As noted, one of Tribe’s disciples is Kanye West. The always newsworthy West has a interesting place in the hearts of white people. To impress your friends with your knowledge of Mr. West always remember that College Dropout and Late Registration were his best albums and tell your friends that although you like all his new stuff, you yearn for the days when he made music like on his first two albums. This is great line at parties, use it on the ladies.

Bonus: Next time you see a black man wearing skinny jeans and an ironic t-shirt understand that this is all Kanye West’s doing. Jay-Z used to wear oversized throwback jerseys, Tims and baggy jeans before he met Kanye, afterwards it was all “Gimme a crisp pair of jeans, button up”

Understand the difference between Rihanna and Beyonce. Yes, they are both black but only one of them is talented. Rihanna doesn’t write her own music. Rihanna doesn’t write her own lyrics. Rihanna is an average singer. I honestly don’t know how she is popular but to each their own. Beyonce, on the other hand, helped push forward the modern women’s movement first with Destiny’s Child and then by herself. When is the last time you listened to “Independent Women Part 1”? If it’s been more than a year, please YouTube it now. Rihanna has done nothing except set women back generations with her insistence that she is a rebel because she still sleeps with the man who used to beat her up. No, I’m serious.

Bonus: Lauryn Hill.

Since rap music is basically pop music these days, it’s best to listen to the top artists of the day. The problem is that it’s not cool to listen to super popular people. The only way to get around this is to claim you only like Drake ironically. “Yeah, I listen to Lil’ Wayne, but only when I’m not listening to Mos Def” should be your go to line. In second place is, “I only listen to Rick Ross when I’m drunk and in the club”.

Bonus: “I liked Lil’ Wayne when he was in the Hot Boyz”

Speaking of Mos Def. You will get a lot of black people to like you if you claim you’re down with Mos Def or Talib Kweli or Common. Nevermind that these people are incredibly popular musicians, there is still an aura of underground-ness (Is that a real word? It should be) about them and liking these guys will get the hipster black crowd (or “bipsters”) on your side in no time. If you want a two-for-one special don’t forget to mention your love of Black Star and how much you wish they would come out with another album

Bonus: Jazz music. You wanna go deep underground? Bust out how much you like Robert Glaspers new album. Maybe you can talk about how much Christian Scott’s albums really speak to you on a spiritual level? Don’t worry, I don’t understand jazz either.

Finally, you can never ever ever like anything that an NBA player has recorded. Not Shaq, not Kobe, not World Peace, not Allen Iverson. With that said, if you are talking to a black person don’t forget to mention how Shaq can’t hit free throws and Allen Iverson ran himself into the ground with the way he balled out every night.

Bonus: You can however, at any time, bring up any of Shaq’s movies. Kazaam.

failed attempts to sleep with women through facebook messages

i’m not going to post a list here, or post screenshots, just know they exist. this is more of a guide. of course, results may vary. also understand that any actual success is a-typical.

i don’t think i’m blowing the lid off any conspiracy when i say that i (and many others) have tried to get into the pantalons of all kinds of women folk through facebook. i’m pretty sure that’s what facebook is for to tell you the truth.

step one is to finish masturbating. trust me, you’re gonna be way too riled up to make any rational decisions if your hand is down your pants. if you try to pick up a girl on facebook while you have an erection you will undoubtedly try way too fast to ask her to actually hang out and/or actually have sex with you. you can’t just go straight from “hey” to “let’s go get some barbecue and get busy”. consequently, picking up girls on facebook right after you’ve finished is not something i would recommend either. the post-fap guilt is still too strong and you end up telling her way too much about your relationship with your mother. this leaves only 5-6 minutes between you not feeling guilty anymore and you masturbating again, so act quick.

when messaging girls, the music playing on your itunes is very important. please avoid any type of RnB or soul music. you don’t want to be throwing out lines like “girl, when you lay your head down at night, do you dream of me?” if you’ve only seen this girl once at a party 2 years ago. on the flip side, you don’t want to be listening to any super heavy metal either. “girl, i will rip your heart out and savour it” is just as oft-putting. really, just stick with listening to kenny loggins when you’re messaging girls, i guarantee nothing can go wrong there.

finally, if when you do decide you are gonna go for it, peruse the content of your targets facebook page and try to find something, anything, that you can possibly have a conversation about since you obviously haven’t seen said target in like 2 years but goddamn her profile pictures are so sexy. so, for example, maybe she likes painting her nails and posting the pictures on facebook/instagram. this is how the conversation should go:

you: hey

3 days later

her: hey

you: i see you like to paint your nails all sorts of wacky colours

no response

well, at least you tried.

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