Seven levels of intimacy

Weight Loss and Sleep - Their Interconnected Relationship

It is observed that even when you are following a rigorous weight loss program or you are dieting, poor pattern of sleep or lack of sleep may defeat you. Scientific studies show that one of the reasons for weight gain can be lack of sleep. Experts are not quite sure why this happens. There are many reasons being advanced and discussed by the experts.

Cortisol is one of the hormones that regulates appetite. It is secreted by the adrenal gland. Both adrenaline and cortisol are released by the body as a normal daily hormonal cycle. Adrenaline increases your metabolism and makes you alert and energetic, Adrenaline helps release of energy by fat cells. Cortisol boosts effectiveness of your body at producing glucose from proteins; thus in times of stress, it helps quickly increase the body’s energy.

In times of stress – whether physical or emotional – the body may trigger the adrenal gland to release adrenaline as well as cortisol. This will affect your metabolism by making you feel hungry when you really are not. Lack of sleep could start such an action which will result in weight gain.

It is also observed that when you do not get enough sleep, you are depressed and you do not move around much; consequently you do not burn enough fat. This also causes you to gain weight and not lose weight.

The mechanism of adrenal fatigue also may be partly responsible for weight gain when you have not had restful sleep. In case of Adrenal Fatigue the brain receives the pick-me-up signal, causing a craving for sugar or carbohydrate snacks, resulting in causing excess of calories to the body.

A good restful sleep has the ability to de-stress the mind and body. On the contrary lack of sleep tends to cause a constant state of stress. This will cause production of excess cortisol. Cortisol stimulates glucose production which due to its being in excess is converted into fat.

When you are trying to lose weight, getting enough sleep is very essential. Poor sleep affects you physically as well as mentally. You tend to be confused, short tempered and depressed when you lack proper sleep.

Follow a natural weight loss routine, treat going to bed at the same time each night as a priority item in your activity schedule. Try to get about 7 to 8 hours sleep. Bed time routines such as washing your face, removing makeup, applying a face mask or some routines of this nature will help you unwind before going to bed. A calm, pleasant frame of mind is very essential for getting good, restful sleep.

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Quest for Immortality

Understand Woman!

How many times have you talked to a woman and wondered if she is interested in you? I talk to a lot of women every day, I wonder about this day in and day out. How do I know if a woman is interested in me? I don't want to end up looking like a fool if I ask her out and she turns me down. Here is a little story. Most people wouldn't tell you something like this, but what the hell. Maybe you will get a good chuckle out of it. I decided that I wanted to out for a few drinks. It was one of those weeks where all I did was work. I needed to unwind a little. I wasn't on the prowl for some putty cat, but if it came my way I wasn't going to turn it down.


I go up to the counter and I order a beer. I drank about half of it and watched whatever was playing on the television. All of a sudden a group of about five hot babes came down and sat next to me. I couldn't believe it. They all were wearing hot little outfits that made their bodies scream at me.

I drank a few more beers and I got relaxed. I thought I would say a few words with them. Hell, there is five of them, one of them has to be a prospect. I started off by doing some simple magic tricks. You know, like the one where you 'find' a quarter behind their ear.

After a few more drinks we were all laughing and having a good time. We went to the dance floor and they were all rubbing up against me. I'm not much of a dancer, but when I get a few beers in me I think I am. We went back and had a few more drinks.

By this time all of us where pretty hammered. I was feeling like super man and didn't have a care in the world. I asked one of the hot babes if they wanted to go out with me. She looked like she just seen a dead animal on the side of the highway. Then out of no where, all the girls started laughing at me. I felt about an inch tall. I asked them why they were laughing.... Out of no where the girl I asked out said she thought I was a geek.

I tried to make up some jokes to lighten the situation, but I could see that I was going no where fast. Everyone in the bar was laughing at me, not with me. I mean EVERYONE was laughing. What a flop.

Here are some tips that you can use to know if she is interested. Hopefully, you won't get embarrassed like I did.

If you are talking to a woman and she constantly touches you, chances are she wants more than just a conversation. This doesn't mean that you are going to score. It might mean that you have the potential to get laid, but I wouldn't count on it.

If she hangs around you all the time it might mean she is interested. If her girl friends go to the dance floor and she sticks near you to talk to you, that is a good sign.

If after a night out she invites you in for coffee. She might just be a polite gal, chances are she is inviting you in for some hot action. Take her up on the offer if she doesn't look like road kill.

She talks about sex. Sometimes a woman will talk about a bad lover or that she hasn't been touched in a while. This means that she is definitely interested in you.

She makes sexual comments to you. She doesn't tell you how nice your pants are, but instead tells you how well they fit your ass. Reel her in, you are about to bang her.

She offers you some gum. If she offers you some gum while you are at the bar while she puts some in her mouth, chances are she is getting ready to do some kissing.

If she offers you some of her food. This means that she doesn't have any problems showing her different sides to you.

If she is watching your lips. Most people look someone in the eyes when they are being talked to. If she is looking at your lips, it means she wants you bad. If of course you are in a loud place, she might just be reading your lips because she can't hear you very well.

Here you go my friend. Now you won't be making the same mistake I made. You can use these tips to get that new hunt in the bag in no time. People will call you the stud of the hour after you practice these moves for a little bit.

Of course, depending on the situation, these signs might mean nothing. If she for example is offering you some of her food, she might hate it and feel bad for wasting it. Nothing is perfect and with women, you will never know what they are thinking. You could be a code breaker for the government and a woman would throw you off every time. That is the beauty of the hunt. It is the challenge of the hunt. It is what makes it all worthwhile.

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Halo 2 as South Park

Oh no fatty. That food's not for you.

Hey fatbottom, don't think I don't see you coveting the kitten's rich tasty kitten food. So knock it off, cause you ain't getting any.

You can hatch evil plans to acquire the tasty food all you want, but let me remind you, you're a cat, and your strategies have been at best dismal failures. Let's refresh, shall we?

You headbutted the kitten away from her food. This was your best strategy to date, and you actually got to snarf down some of good stuff until I caught you, and you were greeted by your arch nemesis, Captain Squirtgun and his sidekick Lieutenant My-Foot-To-Yo-Fat-Ass. Me 1, Tubbins 0

Brute Force no longer an option, you decided to go stealth ops. Lurk, waiting for the kitten to wander, then you swoop in on a high speed raid. That didn't work out so well for you either did it? Why not? Cause at 20 something lbs, you don't 'swoop' very stealthy. There's a reason Possums hunt at night- because they'd starve otherwise... just like you're doing now. Me 2, Sumo-cat 0

Taking no chances and sick of having to guard the kitten bowl until she was done, I decided kitten gets to eat up on the counter. You hate that more than anything don't you? I can just see the resentment in your pudgy face. Why does she get to eat steak up there, when I'm eating compressed dust down here? Because I know you can't get up to the counter without a loud distinctive grunt and making a calamity trying to wiggle your raccoon-ass between the wall and the toaster. Me 3, Fatty 0.

Clearly I own you. In all senses of the word. You really ought to just get used to the Vet's prescribed food. You're gonna be eating it for at least a decade, which is forever as far as you're concerned.

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Woman gets her exam

Have you ever seen those multi-page double-sided health history questionnaires they make you fill out? There are no less than three places where you have to indicate when was the last time you had sex (er... half hour before the appointment? I showered! Really! I did!). Then indicate what kind of sex you usually have (check all that apply): oral, anal, vaginal. Gender of your partners: Male, female, both. You get the idea.

I could see the nurse's eyes get a little bigger as she read my answers. Then she paused and asked me how many partners I had in the last 90 days. I was caught off guard by an unexpected question, still half naked and draped with a flimsy paper towel. I can't think well when my pants are off, which come to think of it, explains quite a bit about my life. I stalled a bit, asking innocently if I missed that question somehow, while in the back of my mind I was panicking, desperately trying to remember every Dick I met in the last 90 days and how fucking long ago did I meet that guy from Minneapolis and god dammit I need to peruse NSA section a little less and for real how many did I fuck and do I have to count random blow jobs or having sex with an ex-boyfriend omg I can't tell her THAT number am I really such a slut she is going to call CDC and a swat team in biohazard suits will show up for pete's sake!!! I finally squeaked out a number. She did a double take. That many? In the last 90 days? I stammered and said "let's not go there". Really, I know how fucked up I am, but I definitely did not check Yes on the question "do you have any concerns about sex you would like to discuss today?".

The nurse, without missing a beat, said "You know what, have as many partners as you want! Just practice safe sex!" and opened up a medicine cabinet. "Here are a few for the road!" she chirped, dumping rolls of condoms in a little goody bag with pamphlets she had sitting on the table next to my chart. Shocked that someone can be so accepting, I stuttered and said "Just how many do you think I need?!" She smiled and said "As many as it takes!" I was speechless. Thank you, nurse practioner. You rock. You were absolutely wonderful today. You not only had an outstanding bedside manner that more than a few doctors should acquire but you also showed genuine kindness and understanding that is so rarely seen anywhere today, much less in medical profession. Most of all, thank you for not judging and thank you for supporting me.

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Things my father taught me

3 years gone. Miss you Dad.

Return borrowed things in better shape than when you borrowed them.
There are two types of trouble...one is the trouble you knowingly walk into, the other is trouble that just happens...it's important to know the difference.
Walk softly but carry a big stick.
if you have to use said stick, make sure who you use it on, doesn't get up.
Foul language is a sign of a limited vocabulary
Orion, the Big and Little Dippers.
Everyone is a friend until proven otherwise.
Don't watch the clock when you're at work.
Never go to bed angry.
That which does not kill you will hurt like the dickens, but it will make you stronger.
Family is the most important thing on earth.
The phrases "I don't know", "I forgot", or "I tried (and failed)" are excuses.
There is a difference between an excuse and a reason, know the difference.
Take care of your apperance...even if it is just a t-shirt and jeans.
The world can change everything about you, except your point of view...unless you allow it to.

You Dropped Your Bible and I Saw Your Thong

I was walking down the sidewalk and you, a very good looking woman from the backside, dropped what appeared to be the Holy Bible, bent to pick it up, and through no fault of my own, I saw your thong...and wow.

I know Jesus spent some time with Mary Magdalene, and likely she wore next to nothing under those sackcloths, but I have to admit, your short skirt and fluorescent pink thong were way sexier, and made me want to get to "know" you, in the Biblical sense, of course.

I'm not Christian, but if we can stick to the basic 10 Commandments and leave the Pope out of it, I think we'll be ok.

Oh, by the way, I was the handsome, blue-eyed, short-haired, non-Christian gentleman walking behind you.

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I quit Cold turkey

I quit masturbating last month.

Soak that in a second.

So I've got it in my head that as soon as my 38th birthday passed, I no longer wanted sex. You know. I was old. Besides, without a reliable source of sexual activity, there was no true way to know for sure, just this thought in my head that once I approached 40, I'm supposed to drive slower, worry about finances more, and spend less time thinking about sex.

As such, I went from an every-morning habit, to say, every otherish. You know, the motor needs less maintenance now.

Enter new girl. She's this cute little thing that makes me laugh a lot. She's also got this completely slammin' body that well... that's none of your damn business. Anyway, because I'm 38, I now feel that with my self-imposed-decreased sex drive, it's time to uh, save it up. NO PROBLEM! I'll see her 3 times a week or so, for the next 6-8 months we'll be in that "sexual bliss" stage of the relationship where we basically preface and footnote every event with a good shag, so well, no need for routine maintenance. After that, we'll get into an argument about nose hair trimmings or used tampons or something, and we'll finally realize we're into a relationship; thus it'll be more important that I hang out with her friends at a poetry slam about Enchiladas than curl her toes EVERY night, so I'll be able to fill some gaps in here and there.

Problem being? My over-thinking-neurotic-brain hasn't taken into account that we're both busy people, our schedules don't always line up, and I've now gone 6 days without sex.

Day 1: It's not so bad today. I realize that it's more of a force of habit, much like a smoker with nothing to do. After deleting and throwing all forms of pornography (mostly a non-binding resolution that...it's not hard to get back with a few clicks; I've been doing this computer stuff for years, I'm an EXPERT at undeleting stuff), I turn on PBS, and grab a book.

Day 2: It's now becoming a bit of a pain to actually think about. I have to REMIND MYSELF not to. I turned on PBS again, but it was a documentary on the Washington Monument. Instead I read computer tech manuals.

Day 3: I'm now on the longest self-dry-spell since the great broken wrist of '92. That went 3 days, and ended when I finally learned one absolute fact: When under dire stress, the human being can suddenly become ambidextrous. Baggy pants are no match for a stiff breeze.

Day 4: Miss perfect is out having drinks with friends. I tried to see if she'd need a ride home. She told me she had a ride. We're not quite to the point where I can simply tell her it's a manipulative ploy to fuck her senseless. I put on a shirt I wore this last weekend and it smelled just like her perfume. That shirt is now charcoal.

Day 5: I'm about to crack. I'd quit this nonsense now and do the quickest data restore in modern history, but I'm seeing her TOMORROW. I have no idea how long it takes to reload the ole' wheel gun. The last thing I can do at this point is fizzle in the sack.

Day 6: I see her in 10 hours, 6 minutes, and 18, 17, no wait 16 seconds. I go into work and drive around the coeds, they're talking about who's been screwing who. I hate them. I miss PBS. I miss my 20's.

Somebody help me.

South Park Star Wars

Here's to you, Fat Sauna Gawker

Okay, so saunas are naked places. I’m fine with that. And some guys like looking at other guys. Fine with that too. I realize that gay men have it a little rough in our society, and I’m willing to cut some slack for the odd locker-room check out or sidelong glance in the shower. Lord knows I’d have difficulties keeping my thoughts holy and towel un-tented if I had to shower or sit in a sauna full of mostly-nude women.
But you, fat sauna gawker, you’re different. You push the envelope. A real renegade, you are.

So here are some tips, in case you make a habit of this sort of thing.


I might not have even known, Fat Sauna Gawker, had you just used a little tact. Pretended to read a newspaper, perhaps, or done some 'neck stretches', etc. Surely it’s not that hard to sneak a peak here and there without getting caught. But you were always a rule breaker, weren’t you Fat Sauna Gawker? Yep, your strategy was to just, flat, out, STARE.

And hell, sauna gawker, you probably could have even gotten away with the unabashed staring had it not been accompanied by your HEAVY-ASS MOUTH BREATHING. But you wanted to get caught, didn’t you fat sauna gawker? You stared and you mouth-breathed to your double bypassed little heart’s content. And it worked. And I looked.

But even when I noticed, Fat Sauna Gawker, even then I could have let it go. But that wasn’t the end of it. There was no apologetic or even uncomfortable look in your eye. Animalistic lust and debauchery, that’s all I saw.

And after that, Fat Sauna Gawker, with all of your unholy intentions known, with your creepy gaze and pursed lips, and with your pudgy little hand making its way under your towel… Even after all of it I would have shrugged it off.

I turned to stare at the wall, sauna gawker, since I’m not one for awkward silences or confrontation. I figured it might give you a hint.

But the shadow-puppets, Fat Sauna Gawker, those were unforgivable.
Vile creature, how did you even do that? Just thinking about it makes me shudder.

And I left, Fat Sauna Gawker. I left, and I felt dirty. And the sauna is no longer that warm, happy and relaxing place in my mind. And you’re to thank for it.

So cheers to you Fat Sauna Gawker.

My wife doing the housework

The dream keeps me going...

Shocked by my cucumber...

Look. English cucumbers go for $1.50 each at the Midvale Harmon's on 7th East. That's right. Each.

So while you were standing next to me gawking as I tried to find the biggest, individually, shrink-wrapped English cucumber, I thought I would just politely explain why I was being so picky. It struck me afterwards why you might have been a bit traumatized, Mr. Three Cans of Rock Star energy drink, 4 donuts, and one tub of potato salad, after I told you that "size really does matter, you know..."

$1.50 each! That means I pay the same for a short, stubby one. A crooked, bumpy one. A long, firm one. A soft, mushy one. An average-lengthed, chubby one... So yes, if I pay the same no matter what, I wanted a long, chubby, firm English cucumber for the money, thankyouverymuch.

But if you aren't too traumatized from our interaction, I'm single (and I'm guessing you are too, Mr. Three Cans of Rock Star, 4 donuts, and one tub of potato salad). Come on over and I'll feed you. Care for a salad? I can omit the cucumber...

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Seven Deadly Dating Sins for women

1. Never have sex with your ex
2. Never let him keep photos of you in your birthday suit
3. Never use the toilet in front of your partner
4. Never write your ex a letter letting him know "how you feel"
5. Never fake orgasm
6. Never drop your girlfriends for your guy
7. Never keep your ex in your phone or on your buddy list

Full Article

Dear Diary

AGE NINE: My legs really hurt. Mom tells me it means I'll grow up to be really tall but some nights all I can do is stay up and cry.
AGE TEN: If I had $5 I would buy enough candy to last a week.
AGE ELEVEN: I wish dad would stop yelling at mom.
AGE TWELVE: I wish dad would stop yelling at me and hitting me. I can't wait to be thirteen so things will be different.
AGE THIRTEEN: I had my first date and had no clue what to do. For my birthday I got a Nintendo. I love comic books.
AGE FOURTEEN: Man, I hate school! I have to spend four more years here? This place sucks!
AGE FIFTEEN: Mom and dad are divorcing. Why the hell did they get married in the first place? Now I'll have to deal with all this bullshit. I'm never getting married. Oh yeah, I kissed a girl. I don't think she liked it.
AGE SIXTEEN: Screw this place! I'm going to blow up the school. Where's my Slipknot?
AGE SEVENTEEN: Just one more year and I'm out of here. I can't wait to get the fuck out of this place. At least dad's not around anymore. I saw a girl naked. It was pretty hot.
AGE EIGHTEEN: THANK GOD! Finally! Get me the hell out of here.
AGE NINETEEN: Lost my virginity. That's what the big deal was about? Hope I didn't get her pregnant. If I had $50 I would buy a bag of weed.
AGE TWENTY: There's so much I'm going to do! I've got my whole life ahead of me and I'm at the beginning of the journey. Look at all those morons working jobs they hate, I'm going to do what I'm meant to do and I'm going to love it.
AGE TWENTY ONE: Got a job until I graduate and make some money. Not so great but it's only temporary. My girlfriend keeps asking about marriage. Guess I'll have to dump her.
AGE TWENTY TWO: Got the diploma, left my job and moved. It's great out here on my own, doing what I like far away from everyone. Mom calls a lot. I haven't heard from dad in years. It's hard to meet girls here.
AGE TWENTY THREE: I haven't been laid in eight months. That's the longest stretch I've ever gone. Masturbation is a wonderful thing. and Playstation. and beer. Got a job. It's not in my field but it pays the bills.
AGE TWENTY FOUR: The right job will come along, all I have to do is be patient. Met a woman, she's in her thirties. This should be fun.
AGE TWENTY FIVE: If I had $500 I'd pay for rent. Dad got remarried. I didn't go to the wedding since I was working. Mom is drinking too much.
AGE TWENTY SIX: I love the internet. What's this site Craig's List? Interesting...
AGE TWENTY SEVEN: Found a new apartment, new couch, new job (not in my field) on Craig's List. Found a new girlfriend too but after we had sex I'm returning her for a different one.
AGE TWENTY EIGHT: Girlfriend keeps bringing up moving in together. I'm only twenty eight, is she kidding? I'm not ready to settle down.
AGE TWENTY NINE: Broke up with girlfriend. Should be easy to find another one. Still haven't found that job. I've been kind of an asshole, I should probably give all my old girlfriends a call and see what they've been up to. Did I really spend three years on Craig's List? Fuck I'm almost thirty...
AGE THIRTY: This isn't so bad. Is this what we were all afraid of? I'm surprised I've lived to see it with everything I did in my twenties. Things aren't so bad. I was a real idiot when I was nineteen and twenty.
AGE THIRTY ONE: What's with all the women I'm meeting? Is everyone divorced? Why are women sleeping with so many men? Oh, wait...
AGE THIRTY TWO: Why are women sleeping with each other? I've gotten much better at sex and have a great, mature girlfriend. She loves wine and spending weekends on the Cape. I no longer meet women on the computer. Most of them approach me. I've gotten much better at sex.
AGE THIRTY THREE: Jesus Christ, Bruce Lee, John Belushi and Chris Farley never made it past thirty three. Took a risk and am changing careers. It's a long time in coming but there's no time like the present. If I had $5,000 I'd buy my graduate school tuition.
AGE THIRTY FOUR: Not a lot of doors open for a thirty four year old with a spotty resume. They'd rather hire a college graduate that will work for nothing. Wish I made better decisions.
AGE THIRTY FIVE: Guess I should get married. She'll leave me if I don't. Nothing else to do. Got golf clubs for my birthday. I don't even play.
AGE THIRTY SIX: What happened? Looked in the mirror, hair missing, wrinkles, getting fat. At least I'm working.
AGE THIRTY SEVEN: If I'd known marriage was this great I would have done it long ago. Wife's wonderful in bed. Too bad she's pregnant.
AGE THIRTY EIGHT: Do I really want to be a dad? Guess it's too late to answer that question. If I had $50,000 I'd put it towards a new house.
AGE THIRTY NINE: I can't do this. All the other parents are so much younger. I waited too late. Cute kid though. Fuck, I'm almost fourty...
AGE FOURTY: Here it is, officially the halfway point. Can't say I'm not happy about that. Wife is getting on my nerves. She spends too much time with the kid and ends up screaming at me. I probably scream at her too.
AGE FOURTY ONE: Got a new house, new car and a promotion. I love my lawn. I love my new secretary too- a cute college intern. I still got it. Wife pregnant again.
AGE FOURTY TWO: Dad died. I didn't go to his funeral but went to his grave afterwards. Poor fucker. I kinda know how he felt.
AGE FOURTY THREE: We sleep in different rooms now. She would rather stay near the crib than next to me. I fixed up the basement real nice and spend most of my time down there.
AGE FOURTY FOUR: We fight all the time now. Why did I ever get married? What was going through my head? Work is laying people off, I lost my secretary and am spending my nights jacking off to the computer in the basement.
AGE FOURTY FIVE: The kid is doing really well. Good for him. He is on teams after school and has lots of friends. He doesn't want me around anymore.
AGE FOURTY SIX: Mom died. Went to her funeral alone. Got drunk and cried in the basement.
AGE FOURTY SEVEN: Wife left me. Can't say I didn't see it coming. Guess I'll have to wait for the divorce papers.
AGE FOURTY EIGHT: Weeks and weeks of court bullshit just because she wants to be a bitch. I'm not giving her anything more than I have to and if she thinks she's getting the kids she's fucked in the head.
AGE FOURTY NINE: Kids decided to go with ex wife. Probably a good thing. At least no one will want her- old and fat with two kids. Taken up golf. It's a lot of fun.
AGE FIFTY: This is my life? I always thought I would have someone to grow old with?
AGE FIFTY ONE: My son is really growing up. He's a great kid, a little hellraiser just like I was. Always seems so nervous around me though. I wish we were closer.
AGE FIFTY TWO: Laid off from my job. Got a pretty good severance package so I could retire if I want but retire to what?
AGE FIFTY THREE: This country is going to hell. What the hell is wrong with people? I'm not voting for that guy that wants men to marry men and pay lazy people to do nothing.
AGE FIFTY FOUR: Moving out of here. Too many memories. Maybe I'll go out west.
AGE FIFTY FIVE: Lost touch with the kids. Maybe they'll come to my funeral. It's cold at night so I turn the heat way up.
AGE FIFTY SIX: R.I.P. Died in housefire while asleep.

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Understanding men

Sex sins
Rude behavior
Money issues
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iVilliage article

Those were the days...Womens rant

To the guy I keep hooking up with (#$%#@!!)

For quite some time now, I’ve been perplexed by my attraction to you. I really don’t even like you that much! I think there’s this dark force around you that keeps drawing me in, much like my penchant for cheap vodka in large quantities. Actually, that’s where my slow but sure downfall began, the combination of said liquor and your slightly above average good looks that lead me to do Things of Which We Shall Not Speak (TWWSNS). The worst part is, it’s not just me who falls prey, it’s a truly alarming number of girls who have done TWWSNS with you and have thus given you the undeserving status of a lothario. Why?? Well, here’s what I’ve worked out.

You’re pretty good looking. You’re kind of pale and on the skinny side, but you’ve got a naughty little “come to me, my pretty” grin and puppy dog eyes. You are vastly superior to the nasty dudes my friends and I give demeaning nicknames to, like Womanly Body with the Ostrich Head, but you are not elevated to the status of the Ridiculously Good Looking Guy who I make obscene comments about, and occasionally to, if inebriated enough. Attainably Attractive Guy, if we were to date (hypothetically! calm the fuck down) I’d be the slightly hotter half of the couple, as I am firmly in the good-looking category. One point for me, zero for you.

You’re pretty smart. But to be honest, if we were to hypothetically move beyond our friendship based on convenience and other TWWSNS, I’d be the smarter of the two of us. You know that class we have together? You were so crushed when you got a B on the midterm (I got an A). And do you think I was paying attention to that crap about standard deviations when you were sitting next to me in that freshly washed t-shirt with your favorite badass derivative rock band logo on it? Now, I know your stance on laundry, so it was a nice treat to sit next to you smelling so nice…made me want to throw the books off your desk in the direction of the whorefaced sorority girl that flirts shamelessly with you and straddle you right there! And I still did better than you on the test that you studied so hard for, Attainably Attractive Guy! Two points me, zero points you. But then I came close to engaging in TWWSNS since you looked so damn sad and gave me that cute “aw shucks” look when you showed me your test grade…so, minus one, Mildly Slutty Girl.

But okay, I’ll admit that you’re pretty funny…you do things like draw me little pictures of the previously mentioned gum snapping, gym obsessed, bread, sugar, and soul deprived, hugely whorefaced sorority girl foaming at the mouth and make self-deprecating jokes about what an asshole you are, even though I laugh and deny it, I know it’s true and you know it’s true so let’s put an end to that charade. You also know how effective the approach of giving constant, mostly sincere compliments is, and thanks man, I have heard I look like that B-list celebrity before! Whoops, how’d that button get undone?

But let’s move on to the crux of your success. Your unwavering, rather unwarranted, borderline ridiculous confidence. This is why you win. Attainably Attractive Guy 2,348 points, Mildly Slutty Girl 1. This is why you get all kinds of girls that, realistically in a world that makes any kind of sense, you should not be able to get! Which isn’t to say you don’t settle for the occasional dog, cause that one gal with the lazy eye was a real low point in your repertoire. Your complete confidence that you could have me naked in your bed as fast as you can say “want another shot?” combined with your moderately entertaining sense of humor and attainably attractive looks seems, ridiculously enough, to be responsible for times like when we went in your friend’s bathroom and did TWWSNS.

Attainably Attractive Guy, you’re no good for me. You sleep around too much, could very well have an/several incurable STD(s), and are largely an asshole, so I’m trying to give you up. I’ve been thinking about this for some time, but you sealed the deal when you hit shamelessly on my (less attractive but larger bosomed) friend right in front of me. Dude, come on! So you know what, fuck the hell off. But unfortunately it seems that any Guy with Real Potential only coexists with the quality of Disappearing from the Face of the Earth…clearly a catch-22. Even so, I haven’t given up yet. I’m holding out for a hero…unless you’re in the area, and want to stop by my room to you know, study for stat. With my shirt off, possibly. Gimme a call!