ba dum BLOGger has no "game" vol. 4

now, i promised myself when i first started blogging my wooing woes that i wouldn't blog my triumphs; ever so rare, fleeting and less than triumphant they may be (in case you're keeping score at home, i'm running at a 20:1 clip with the former being the miscues). although my success stories may even be more tragically hilarious than my failures but winners aren't endearing, losers are and i blog to endear. yet, i will blog a recent peccadillo i've had with a nice young lady only because she's a friend (not just some ho), a friend of the blog, gave me her permission (methinks) and it is highly relevant to my most recent enterprise. i also feel compelled to acknowledge that, yes, i realize that most of my "no game" adventures only amount to one insignificant conversation but that's how it goes with bloggers with no "game" - that's about as far as we get.

i'll be brief and less than detailed in my latest, mild success story: went out with my pal to a bar, met up with some female acquaintances of ours, yada, yada, yada, as i was rounding first base with the more fortunate of the acquaintances she stops me and says "i have a question i need to ask you." and, even though i was silly drunk, i knew EXACTLY what she was gonna' ask me and even said it with her as if i were following the little white balls in a sing-a-long: "ARE YOU GAY???" oops i did it again, i played with your heart, you thought i was GAY... ooh baby, baby. i said "what do you think?" yada, yada, yada, i got into a pickle betwixt first and second. and, yes, i realize the irony of referencing sing-a-longs, little white bouncing balls and quoting a britney song all while trying to convince everyone on the internets that i'm not gay... oh, and the pickle too.

so, that was that, and now we're onto another night. as it happens, i went out with my same pal, plus one, and met up with these very same female acquaintances, plus one, but at a different bar. quick digression: i haven't been to this bar in months and now all the bartenders wear snazzy t-shirts with the bar's name emblazoned on them and have raised the price on drinks from like $5 to $8. this shizz is bush, t-shirts and jacking up the prices three dollars at a skeezy, hole-in-the-wall dive bar???? bush. anyway, at one point, some decent looking chick, we'll call her "ellen," is clearly googly eying me and gives me the come hither look and finger but i play coy in my attempts to feign some "game." in the meantime, i decide to reconnoiter the situation and notice "ellen" has some dude holding her hand and is provocatively dancing with her. while trying to further asses the situation the dude notices me creepin' but instead of gettin' all territorial on me, he actually starts smiling at me all friendly like. of course, when you read me blog it in such a way, it's obvious what was happening here but not in my drunken stupor.

now that i feel i have the dude's blessing and have played coy long enough, "ellen" and i slowly reel each other in; in synchronized, googly eye fashion. we meet and she kinda' arches her back in a way where our crotches bump and she coquettishly pokes me in the chest with her finger and inquires... "ARRRRE YOOOOOU GAAAAAAY???" between the alcohol, her creepy, obviously gay dude still smiling at me over her shoulder and the fact that i'm tired of everyone thinking i'm gay, i begin to get downright indignant. i say "no, i'm not gay. do i look gay?" "ellen" responds; "oh, never mind. you're no fun then." "what, straight guys can't be fun?" "no," and she starts to walk away from me." "wait, are you gay? i ask. "yep, i'm gay." says "ellen." now, my pal who was accompanying me at the bar thinks she was looking for another gay guy to innocently hook up with because that's what lipstick lesbians do but i'm resigned to the fact that she was merely just pimping me out to her creepy, smiling gay friend.

seriously, what do i have to do? is ba dum BLOGger gonna' have to rape a bitch?!?!? seriously, i'm gonna' invite all my friends and acquaintances out to some public place and then i'm gonna' grab some unsuspecting hot, but not too hot (to make a point), chick and force myself on and in her. seriously though, this whole gay thing is becoming quite the disconcerting pattern. i'm not a metrosexual, i have a deep, non lisping voice, i'm not neat or organised, i'm not an emo and i like sports. however, i am a homophile, i like musicals and show tunes, i like disneyland, have double jointed hips and more than dabble and/or diddle in homoerotic humour. look, my sense of humour is so refined and sophisticated that it transcends conventional, societal ideas of gender and i refuse to compromise it for all you blockhead, simpletons of the world. okay, so maybe i do have the cards of perception stacked against me but i'm not gay... theriouthly guyth, thtop it!!!!

ba dum BLOG!!!

editor's note: what do you think? rape humour: yea or nay? and, yes, britney is sportin' a vaGINORMOUS camel toe.

ba dum BLOGger has no "game" vol. 3

before getting started i feel compelled to share a therapeutic breakthrough i had recently that relates to ba dum BLOGger having no "game." no, not an actual therapy session where i lay on a couch and rap with a bearded hack in a tweed jacket with elbow patches but where i just turn out the lights, lay on my bed and quietly berate myself. i was trying to figure out what created the loser whose blog you are reading today and i thought back to my formative years and who my male influences were. i believe it was about the sixth grade (eleven-years-old) when i began watching syndicated episodes of "seinfeld" (this would last for the next seven or eight years). this is when i met my most favourite fictional character of all-time: george costanza. now, i didn't just think george was the most hilarious creature i've ever seen but i wanted to be him. i didn't care that he was a short, stalky bald man of questionable repute who couldn't keep a woman, had no career, was passive aggressive, a compulsive liar and found himself on the wrong end of one precarious situation after the other - all i cared about was that he was funny and if i could be as big a loser as him i'd be funny too. so, to make a long blog short, it's happened. i've successfully, subconsciously evoked the spirit of george costanza; i stopped growing far before my genetic potential, i made myself bald, i have a crappy job, i can't get/keep a woman and i secretly relish every little failure in the name of spinning it towards a humourous and/or whimsical conclusion "for i am costanza, lord of the idiots."

so, as i was leaving a friend's place in burbank the other night, my pal "jerry" text messaged me and told me to meet him at some bar in hollywood. i learned through a series of text messages that he was with his gf and her "cute," very drunk roommate. even though the reason i was leaving my friend's place in burbank was because my cat allergies had sealed my left eye shut, "cute, very drunk roommate" was all i needed to hear to bust a u-turn and head out to hollywood. so, here i am rolling into a grungy dive bar at 1am in my shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops. it's pitch black, loud and everyone but me is hammered. first things first: i gots to go peepee. so i make my way to the can and the second i walk in i can feel my feet get wet from indistinguishable liquid. therefore, i did not venture in any further and did not go peepee for fear of disease.

it took me a bit to find "jerry" and his party because of the danky, dinny goodness of the bar. i finally found him and was introduced to said "cute, very drunk roommate" (we'll call her "laverne" and she wasn't that "cute" but was very drunk) and another girl who was chubby and not previously mentioned in text messages because when telling a story or enticing a friend to roll into a bar at 1am, chubby girls are often omitted, their names forgotten and ironically slip through the cracks altogether. i know, that sounds horrible and it is horrible but it's true; i'm sure girls leave me out of their stories too, so whateva.' anyway, i open up the art of conversation by talking about the wet bathroom floor, my flip-flops and the fact that i may now have hepatitis c... as soon as i said this i realized it was a bad opener but "laverne" shot back with a "that's funny because i have hepatitis a." then i turned to "chub club" and said "now if we can get you hepatitis b then we'd have something..." lolzzz all around!!!

once introductions and lolzzz were out of the way i read the room and realized i was invited as a mere diversion so "jerry" and his girl could get more time alone, which is fine. i then decided to be a big shot and buy a round of drinks for everyone. once i dropped $30, "laverne" and "chub club" decided they wanted to dance. now, i'm a pigeon toed, stiff white guy so dancing always has been and always will be a difficult enterprise for me to undertake; especially when i'm stone cold sober, holding a drink in one hand, am wearing flip flops and still need to go peepee. so, i attempt to dance and can clearly see "laverne's" interest start to wane while i couldn't be less cognizant of "chub club's" chub and/or club (please, "chub club" was and is a perfectly nice lady and i do feel horrible but i just can't pass up the opportunity to blog "chub club" over and over again).

i then decided that i needed to take a break from making an ass out of myself on the dance floor and went to get another drink because when one needs to go peepee and can't, getting another drink is two thumbs up. so, i returned and "chub club" pulls me aside and says "you know what 'laverne' said when you left? she said 'good, pee boy (i guess i was complaining to the point where i had earned a nickname for myself) got the hint and took off." this would hit a normal person who has a modicum of self-esteem hard but for me... it aint no thang but a chicken wang. so, i decide to give "laverne" the cold shoulder and get to dancin' exclusively with "chub club." this goes on for a while until "jerry" pulls me aside and tells me that "chub club" told his girl that she's into me. wait, so did "laverne" really say what "chub club" said she said or did "chub club" pull a power move to kill the competition? i have to say though, if "chub club's" doings were less than above board, i can respect that... not to the point of throwing her a literal or figurative bone, but impressive nonetheless.

so, now i decide to big league both ladies and begin dancing exclusively with "jerry" in a homoerotic manner because i went to all-boys hs and this is what is funny and fun to me. the night ends and we are all ushered outside where, it had been so dark inside, i actually got a better look at "laverne" in the moonlight and realized she really isn't that "cute" but still "very drunk." "laverne" then drunkenly puts her arms around me and starts to try and pull me into her, i temporarily resist because "pee boy" does gots game but, after letting her squirm for a bit, i acquiesce and lean into her non-cuteness only for her to push me away and coquettishly giggle. well, that was about it for "pee boy" because, after a few drinks, i now really, really had to go peepee... plus, visions of giving "laverne" the old golden shower were making like sugar plums and dancing in my head. so i bid everyone adieu and scurried the two blocks back to my car where i found a chain link fence to peepee on and through (important to find something you can actually peepee through, especially when you are wearing flip-flops). once “no longer needing to pee boy” returned home, i bit into a block of cheese like it was an apple and self-gratified myself to “vogue” magazine - coooo-stan-za!!!

ba dum BLOG!!!

ba dum BLOGger has no "game" vol. 2

this is quickly becoming my favourite blog to blog... and yours to read. although, i fear my encounters with women will become less and less organic and lean more towards whimsy and the ridiculous since the endgame is shifting from getting into lady's bloomers to entertaining the few in the form of blog. still though, this is a good thing because as my flirtations grow, so do the odds of finding my loin mate or, at the very least, a loin buddy.

so, i went to the movies with a lady pal from work the other night to see "the happening" (quick review: m. night should stick to "bollywood," thank you). it was a crowded theater and we took our seats next to a young man and woman of indeterminate relations. i immediately had to excuse myself to drain the vane and, upon returning, i see the young man is gone, leaving an empty seat between me and his lady of indeterminate relations. i then made an offhanded joke to my lady pal from work to the effect of me being annoyed with having to wash my hands since there were other people in the bathroom and i didn't want to look gross. the young lady then leans across the empty seat betwixt us and says "oh my god, i do the same exact thing!" i reply, "why bother? i only touched one thing in there and i know that's clean. she laughed and with that the flirting was on... for the next thirty seconds.

i had her going too until she abruptly broke eye contact, repositioned herself firmly back into her seat and said "here comes my husband...just so you know." i was so nonplussed i could barely muster a response. but, if i had my druthers, i'd have quipped, "bummer, i was hoping he was single." but i didn't have my aforementioned druthers and another harmless flirtation went for naught. really though... why did that nice young lady who shares my penchant of not washing her hands after a tinkle freak out like that? i have to admit though, it did feel kinda' neat to be seen as a threat, rife with unbridled sexuality, in lieu of an "asexual pod person," as i was once likened to in college by a female neighbor with a terrific rack.

oh, and then i went out for another over night drunk with some pals last night. i was engaging in the art of conversation/flirtation with this one lady friend of a friend who is pretty much out of my league but she was nice and seemed receptive enough nonetheless - we'll call her "betty." i didn't think much of it afterwards other than "betty" was nice, easy on the eyes and i wouldn't mind hanging out with her again." so i was talking to my pal "archie," who was my friend of her friend, the next day and he said "i have something funny to tell you. "betty" asked me today if you were "gay?" needless to say, this left me feeling lamer than "jughead"... only i don't have a "big ethel" to fall back on.

ba dum BLOG!!!

ba dum BLOGger has no "game" vol. 1

methinks it might be funny and entertaining to occasionally blog the trials and travails of me trying to pick up on chicks because the outcomes are decidedly tragic or, at the very least, disconcerting and unsettling. see, i am very bad at this sort of thing and lack (what the cool kids are calling it) "game." as always, i promise all these anecdotes will be true and contain nothing more than a smidgen of a modicum of hyperbole. because, as all blogga's know, you gots to have hyperbole.

so, i went down to the lbc this weekend to go on an overnight drunk with some chums o' mine and we ended up at this collegey type bar where one pal randomly ran into an old gal pal of his. somehow, i started chattin' it up and spittin' game at one of her very drunk friends (it must be noted i had an in since she was my friend's friend otherwise i would never have talked to her).

we all took a shot and my drunk girl (we'll call her "marty"... i know, sounds kinda' gay but this is the first name that popped into my head) knocked the glass out of my hand and she immediately picks up all the broken glass and hands them to me which slices up my finger and i start bleeding. i ignore this though and sally forth because i'm drunk as well and have my game face on. then, "marty" asks me if i smoke and i say "no" and she says "well, i'm going out to smoke and you should come with me anyway." now i'm starting to feel my oats and have a little pep in my step as i coolly look to my pals and say "catch ya' later, loooosersss. i'm going outside with my drunk lady "marty."

we get outside and "marty" imediately plops down on a bench, lights up a fag and engages in the art of conversation on her cell phone. so there i am; cold and drunk looking like a "dick for" with my hands in my pockets while "marty" is chewin' the fat with god knows who. then, she remembers i exist, calls me over, hands me the phone and tells me to ask for "larry." i oblige, of course, because i may be on the ropes but i'm feeling a rocky-esque comeback a brewin' in my loins. i say "hi, is larry there" to the response of "this is "dominos pizza," there's no one here by that name." "marty" cracks up at this, takes the phone back from me and continues on with her normal conversation. i really wish i had the creativity to make this up.

but wait, there's more! "marty" starts to make her way back to the bar, with me , dutifully following behind. she re-enters and the bouncer arm bars me and says "not so fast, my friend" (thank you, lee corso). "i was just in here" i say. "i was with the girl." "marty!" i call, "marty." she doesn't even flinch, she just keeps on keepin' on. "i don't remember a thing about you" says the bouncer. "not your face, not your shirt, not your shoes, nothing... get to the back of the line!" but i would not "get to the back of the line." what i wanted to do more than anything was call this bouncer a "racist" (because he happened to be black) and explain to him how i was better than him because i have a college degree and make my living by working 9 to 5 (thank you, dolly parton), monday through friday and get to spend my money on saturday nights as opposed to sitting outside of a bar at 1:30 in the a.m. and checking coeds' identification cards.

but i did not say or do this. i continued to stand outside, cold and drunk with my hands in my pockets like a "dick for." i was at a state of imbibery where i had no concept of time so this could have lasted anywhere between ten minutes to an hour; i have no clue. eventually closing time mercifully came and as everyone was pouring out of the bar i actually saw "marty" walk by with some dude but this was neither here nor there because all my carnal passions had shifted from my loins, to my belly and ultimately towards making a late night taco bell run. then, some big dude comes up to me and asks, "hey, have you seen "marty?" and i say "sure... i just saw her walk past with some dude." then, he gets in my face and says "watch it, that's my sister you're talking about." i wanted to say "what do you want from me? you want me to lie? you want me to tell you i just saw some dude carrying her to his '84 camaro like a six pack?" (i hope this visual translates because it's quite striking) but i did not say or do this. i found my friends, we went to t-bell and "89 cents is what we're gonna’ pay."

ba dum BLOG!!!

adventures in cellular text messaging

a few months ago i met a drunk lady at a bar, we made an immediate connection and she gave me her digits. this is the actual transcript of a cellular text messaging dialogue we had a week later.




drunk lady: hey honey sorry i missed your call...what are u up 2?

ba dum BLOGger: nada. just got back from the gym. i figured if i had more muscles i wouldn't have to try so hard to be funny. how was your weekend?

drunk lady: lol. do u want 2 come over and hang by the pool?

ba dum BLOGger: shoot. i can't right now. you want to get something to eat later? also, i like when you call me "honey." makes me feel like i'm texting with my grandma.

drunk lady: lol! i am with katya. can i bring her?

ba dum BLOGger: sure. did i meet her?

drunk lady: yes.

ba dum BLOGger: wait. do you girls have bfs?

drunk lady: nah.. we r kinda in early phases of relationships. doesn't mean we cant hang out.

ba dum BLOGger: true. a cooler guy may be able to handle that but i am not that cool nor am i that guy. have a nice rest of your day!

drunk lady: you don't want to be friends?!?!!?

ba dum BLOGger: i already have enough friends (girls who won't have sex w/ me). no hard feelings. i still think u r a really neat lady!

drunk lady: okay. well good luck then... too bad.

drunk lady: ur loss.

ba dum BLOGger: ;-)

we would never cellular text message again...i will die alone :(

ba dum BLOG!!!