Tag Archives: dating

“Can I use the phrase, ‘Oh no, you didn’t?”

“Come in…”

“Thanks for agreeing to do this interview…I’m doing a study on unimpressive males who are clueless…and you fit the bill perfectly.”

“Well, thank you…I guess. At least I fit a bill somewhere…when it comes to bills, I usually avoid them.”

“Let’s get started, Mr. Unimpressive Male.”

1. What are your pet peeves?

“Hmm….I hate when people tell me ‘your shoelace is untied.’ Obviously I am THAT lazy. Please let me fall on my face in peace. Also, we have these universal shirt sizes…small…extra small….large….extra large…and medium. Why no ‘extra medium’? That is where I fit. I’m too big for medium and only a cheeseburger away from a large. Every shopping trip results in me standing around trying to figure out wether I would need to hold in my breath everytime I wear a particular shirt or wear the large that would not match my skinny jeans. And we all know that is a fashion foul cause Joan Rivers said so.”

2. Do you feel unaccomplished?

“Yes. Every day I look in the mirror and I am filled with regret. Starting from the choices I made in high school….the paths I chose in my career…and they years I wasted in college. I get jealous when I see those more fortunate than me. That’s why I hate shows that let rich folks display everything we wish we had. They complain that they can’t find the perfect Lamborghini to match their brand new custom made Prada purse…and I’m over here trying to decide over which brand of cereal to buy. You know what? If I had money, I would create my own extra medium clothing line. In fact,  can we go back to the pet peeve question?  I also hate guys at the club who wear shirts two sizes too small just to highlight the muscles. Seriously, if you sneeze, your shirt will rip off. Seriously, your shirt is so tight that I can see what you ate at the club….because your shirt is so tight that I can see the sampler platter you just scarfed down go through the digestive process just by looking at your shirt. I like science and all….but prefer not to see it happen in 3D.”

3. Why haven’t you had a second child?

“I’m scared to. I honestly feel like I would not have enough love to give a second child. I give my kid everything she wants….toys….clothes. She is spoiled. What would happen if I had a second kid? My first kid would not get everything she wanted….I would actually have to say no to her. Maybe I can give that job to my wife…because she has no problem saying no to me every night. My wife has talked to me about having another kid….but I can’t do it.”

“Well,  thank you Mr. Unimpressive. I have learned nothing from this interview and it was a complete waste of my time. Good luck with your future extra medium clothing line.”

The Daily Post-Trick Questions


“I hope she doesn’t smell like soup.”

Dating is a fun game. You meet someone and you gain interest. Maybe, it’s their eyes…their smile…or the cute way they flip people off in traffic. But, we all have dealbreakers. That one thing that will make us lose interest in a second. He could have the face of Zac Efron….body of David Beckham…he builds orphanages….he gives to charity….he sits through every Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy with you…just perfect. You talk to him one day and you discover that one thing. That one thing you can’t get pass. That one thing that makes you lose interest.

“Hey honey….its me. What did you do all day?”

“Well, after I was helping at the homeless center I decided to go to the park and feed birds. But I saw this little boy eating an ice cream cone, it fell down and he started to cry. So I took him by the hand and bought him another one. We got to talking and he told me he hated math. And how he hated Algebra. So I taught him about the history of the Pythagorean Theorem. And now he loves math..”

“Wow, you are too sweet…..”

“Yeah I used to have trouble with math. But my ex helped me with it…and it wasn’t just math. I had family problems, but she showed me that family is important. I am the way that I am….because of her.”

Boom. You learn he is not truly over his ex. And everytime he does anything,  you question:

“Is he that way because of his ex?”

And it goes downhill from there.

I have had those situations. And through my 30 something years on this earth,  I found out what I liked and what my dealbreakers are.

1. Substance. A pretty face is great. But what I love most is substance. Tell me about you, what your dreams are…your goal in life. Personally, I love the art of conversation. Current events, whats happening in the world.  Where do you see yourself in ten years? Please don’t say:

“In ten years? Umm..i don’t know. Probably shopping…hi-five!”

2. A sense of humor. I never used to thing this was important until I met Lindsay. She was hilarious. She was witty. She made me laugh all the time….but it didn’t work. Why? See number 3.

3. Voice. Lindsay’s voice was very very deep. I felt like I was dating a late night radio DJ who played Slow Jams. Not cool. But on the opposite side of the spectrum, baby voice. You ever meet someone who talks in ‘baby voice’ all the time? And even makes a baby sound while they sneeze? Yes, not cool.

4. Smell. I dated a girl named Cassie. She was beautiful and interesting. But for some odd reason, she always smelled like soup. Specifically,  minestrone soup. Did she work in a soup kitchen? I don’t know. But,  needless to say, it didn’t work out. The power of smell is strong. You can smell something and it will make you flashback to your childhood…when you walked to school and you always passed a bakery and smelled fresh bread. So everytime you smell bread, you are reminded of this childhood memory. So whenever I walk into Olive Garden and smell soup, it reminds me of Cassie.

4. “Other” This is a wild card. Maybe, the person you are dating has the habit of cutting his toenails in the middle of a restaurant. Or, maybe the guy you are dating always uses the words “pal” or “buddy” or “chief”. Or maybe the guy you are dating likes to keep the door open while he is doing “number 2” in the bathroom. I used to date a woman named Andrea. She had everything…looks…smarts..good voice…but she had this weird habit of making sound effects whenever she talked.

“Hey Andrea! How you been? You ok?”

“Yeah..sorry im late. I was driving(she would make a car sound) and this car cut me off (she would make a car beeping sound). I was so mad (she would make an angry face and say GRRR. ) And at work, I couldn’t get anything done. ..cause the printer kept jamming (she would imitate the sound of a printer. .and then the sound of it jamming.)

I’m being totally serious. Feel free to tell me any dealbreakers you may have.


We all guilty pleasures. Maybe we feel guilty cause we know it’s wrong….or because it’s not healthy….or maybe because we feel it would be embarrassing if anyone knew. I have a guilty pleasure for each category. But, I think its perfectly normal to have these secrets. I mean, honestly, do you really share everything with people? Are you completely honest all the time?

“Will the medicine taste bad doctor?”

“Will the shot hurt Doctor? ”

See, even doctors have to lie. Or would you like this?

“Will the medicine taste bad?”

“Yes…it will taste horrible. It tastes like phlegm mixed with tartar sauce. And to make things worse, it will give you diarrhea….a serious case of what us doctors call ‘mudbutt’.”

“Will the shot hurt doc?”

“Yes, it will hurt immensely. Your right arm will become numb for two days. And this will affect your aim while urinating. Your aim will veer to the right,  so in suggest practicing or you will make a mess everytime you pee.”

No, we don’t want to hear that.

First thing, I love reality TV. My DVR is filled with it. What’s going on the Kardashians? This guy needs to know. Which star is being eliminated from Dancing with the Stars? Again, i’ll be watching with a big tub-o-popcorn. Mama June is getting married in Here comes Honey Boo Boo? Oooh, I gotta see that! Tribal council on Survivor…who’s getting voted off? But seriously, I am addicted to reality tv shows that have to do with singing. I sit there and sing along to every sing song a contestant sings. Well, they hit the notes…I sing terrible. I cheer when my favorite contestants do well and I go into deep depression if one of my favorites leaves the competition. Yes, I know. That’s very manly of me.

I have a huge sweet tooth. I need it all the time. I can stand in the candy aisle for hours. Am I in the mood for chocolate? Something sour? Something fruity? All of the above please. I am a dentist’s nightmare.

“Yes…i have to say this but, you have seven cavities. And they are huge. The size of a Skittles to be exact.”

“Really? Cause I just had some before I got here….you want some? The green ones are my favorite.”

But my all-time favorite sweet thing is caramel. I have eaten jars of that stuff. I put it on ice cream, apples, pies, cakes, and certain body parts. (I don’t recommend it cause it is very sticky and hard to wash off. Plus, you and your significant other will smell like caramel all day.)

Speaking of my junk, that leads me to my next guilty pleasure…social media. I spend all day checking Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I comment on statuses…like pics…and retweet funny posts. But, my current addiction is Snapchat. Just ask my wife, she constantly receives  special pics of me.

But my number one guilty pleasure is blogging. Why? Writing? Really? Yes. Because no one I know knows about this blog. The things I write about my wife…my dirty past….my thoughts on marriage and single life…the struggles with parenting and marriage…it would cause me great trouble if this blog was discovered. But I love writing and expressing myself through it. I am addicted to reading other blogs and sharing in their lives. I feel honored to see that aspect of the people I follow. And if you are reading this…thank you.

The Daily Post-Guilty Pleasure

“Do I need to wash my junk tonight?”

The process of dating is fun. You meet someone. You work up the nerve to try to talk to them. You spit out awkward conversation knowing that any line you say could turn her off for good.

“Yeah, people say I’m pretty sensitive. I mean, I slept with a teddy bear until I was 17.”

“You love to shop?  So do I! I can just stay in the condom aisle for hours….I mean, so many choices….Magnum,  extra sensitive, ribbed….the possibilities are  endless!”

But say you find the one…..the real one. Not the one you just want to sleep with. THE one….the person who would accept you even if you pass gas every 15 seconds in public. Thats gross,  by the way, don’t do that. (I’m talking to you Mr. Blue Polo shirt who was in front of me at Target this morning.)

It’s amazing the lengths we go to impress someone. You comb your hair, you dress up in your best outfits….you ACTUALLY bathe. Being single was great,  but many people don’t appreciate the perks of being married. This is my list of perks to being married.

1. My socks don’t have to match and they can have holes in them. My wife loves me even if my big toe is sticking out of my socks that don’t match.

2. I don’t have to be “Mr. All Night Long” anymore. Now its more like, “Hurry up, commercials are on…don’t want to miss my show.” And she doesn’t get mad at my “secret collection” that I’ve had since I was a freshman in college. Had some lonely nights back then.

3. I don’t have to shave my face every day. I hate shaving. And I end up a bloody mess every single time I do it. But I do “man-scape”, I take pride in it. I treat it like a Bonsai Tree…I prune it, shape it. It’s a work of art.

4. She is not embarrassed by my actions. She laughs at every bad joke I say….and doesn’t mind that I still sing Blackstreet Boys and N’sync songs full blast with the windows down in my car.

5. She helps me keep my “Man-card.” No, I wasn’t watching NASCAR or giving my car a tune-up last night. I was letting my daughter paint my toe nails while watching American Idol.

Looking and Not Touching

I have a long history with my wife. I have known her since I was 18. We dated during that time and decided we wanted different things after a few months. It wasn’t a bad break up, so we remained friends. We became really good friends…we told each other our dirt. She knows about all my random encounters in college….the nights I spent hugging the toilet due to too much alcohol….the girls who walked in and out of my one bedroom apartment. And I knew everything about her….her best girlfriend who she “experimented” with….the clubbing every night of the week….and the nicknames she gave every guy she dated. It worked. Until one fateful night when we took things further than we expected..and three years after that we walked down the aisle proclaiming our love for each other.

But what happens when you marry someone who knows your past….all your dirt….your tendencies. Example, during a day out shopping.

Me: Wanna go in here? Looks like they have some good stuff in here for you…

Wife: Ok….oooh they do have cute stuff.

Twenty minutes later we left…and my wallet was a lot lighter.

Wife: Cute girl in there….

Me: Who?

Wife: The one you were checking out…

Me: No….I..wasn’t….no….she….no…

Wife: She’s totally your type…..nice body….red hair…beautiful eyes. I saw your technique..you walk by….glance real fast. Then glance real fast at me….so I know you were checking to see if I was watching you. And then when we caught eyes and you blurted some random thing that didnt make sense….

Me: What? What I said didnt make sense?

Wife: You asked me if I like apple sauce. Why would that be a conversation to have in a woman’s clothing store…

I was guilty.

That’s what happens. And it is a trap. Anywhere you may go, your significant other will spend her first few minutes scanning the environment for possible eye candy for you. And once she locks her target, she spends a few minutes waiting for you to look at her designated target. And boom, we have no chance.

But, I don’t see anything wrong with looking…I know there are guys who my wife thinks are attractive. I know her type. …I know about her secretive way she looks at guys. But I don’t call her on it…cause it doesn’t bother me.

A Slippery Mystery

June 17, 2013

Flashback to 1996. A spiky-haired high-schooler closed his locker on the last day before summer vacation. He started to look forward to the random parties he would go to this summer. He pictured himself meeting girls and maybe….just maybe…losing his virginity. It was a rough year for this young man. His heart was badly broken by his girlfriend of two weeks. And let’s not even mention the very public erection he had during Geometry class. Did Mr. Armstrong really need me to calculate a proof in the chalkboard at that very moment? And why did I get excited during a math class? Is it cause I am secretly attracted to perpendicular angles and isosceles triangles? Well, I am attracted to one particular “triangle”, but I am getting to it. As I drove home, I knew my house would be empty. My parents told me they would be gone a week. The possibilities were limitless. I stepped through the door and noticed an envelope filled with cash and a letter on the table.

“Dear son, we will be back in 8 days. Here is some money to use for the week. Please be careful. Do not burn the house down. Make smart decisions.”

I grabbed the money and checked the fridge. Nothing. So I decided to head to the store. I pulled into the store parking lot and double checked my hair spray coated flat top hairstyle in the mirror. Sweet, all spikes in place ready to go. But then again, seriously…was I worried about meeting girls in a grocery store? Was make-up on sale? Maybe, hot chicks were attracted to this store because feminine products were on sale? It was stupid…but I was hopeful. I walked down the aisles and purchased the essentials. Pop Tarts, microwaveable pizza, soda, and broccoli. Yes, I like broccoli. After paying at the register, I walked out without seeing any females. I crossed the parking lot and saw a friend drive by. I gave him a head nod and he drove off. I watched his car slow down and stop and then drive off again. What was that about? I got home and my phone rang as soon as I started to bite into a pop tart.

“Hey man, it’s ____.”

“Hey, what’s up..just saw you at the store. Did you see me?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling…I was with my lady and her friend is visiting. She was in the car and she saw you. She wanted to meet you. She made me stop driving cause she wanted me to turn around and ask you out. You free later?”

“Yeah…parents are out of town. I’ll be at your spot later.”

I was excited. And scary. Who is this chick? Was she hot? Or was my friend setting me up for disaster?

I pulled up at his place a couple of hours later. He opened the door. I walked in hesitantly. My eyes caught his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Hey…what’s up.”

She got up. Her friend popped out of nowhere. Holy eff.

“Hi…I’m Michelle.”

She was wearing a tight red top and jeans. I introduced myself and tried to hide my erection.

We watched a movie. Nothing eventful. The phone rang as I stepped into my house. It was Michelle.

“Are you busy tomorrow? Wanna meet up?”

“Sure…I’ll pick you up.”

“Actually, your friend will drop me off at your place…he said your parents were out of town. Is that cool?”

My doorbell rang and she walked in. I have her the tour and offered her some pop tarts. She laughed an sat on my couch. She pulled out a movie and asked for a blanket. I was getting nervous. I had no idea what was going to happen. About half way to the movie, we started to make out. My mind started to race…did I have any condoms? Nope…why did I choose to buy broccoli over condoms? Wait, I did have a condom…in my wallet but it’s been there for 3 years now. Is there an expiration date in condoms? And if it’s expired..does it smell bad like expired milk? Or does it grow mold like expired bread? Yeah, it was ridiculous. We stopped. She leaned over and asked “can my hand…go down for an ‘adventure’? My mind screamed YES, but I cooly said ‘sure.’ Her hand crept down and I was trembling with anticipation. How do you prepare for this? I tried flexing it for the moment she touched it.


After a few seconds, she said..

“I need something in my mouth…”

I stupidly said…

“You hungry? I have broccoli..”

“No…I need THAT in my mouth.”


And that’s where life started for me. But one thing started to bother me…I’ve shown her what I have to offer…what about her? When can I see her ‘cash and prizes’? Little did I know..I would never ever get to see anything she had to offer. She never took off her shirt or panties. I was naked…and she was fully dressed like she was about to walk into a blizzard. We walked into my bedroom and she noticed my Vanilla Ice poster.

“You like that rapper?”

“Uh, no. It’s not my poster.”

Yes it was. Sad, I know.

We got under the covers and she still kept her clothes on. Finally, she removed her panties. I peered down to look at her “situation” and she stopped me.

“No…don’t look. Just put it in.”

What??? What?? I have been waiting for this moment…and now I won’t even be able to see what it looks like? Ok, fine. So a few seconds later, I lost my virginity. And literally I was finished a few seconds later. Don’t laugh.

The next day, we had sex again. And again, she was fully clothed. And the next day, the same thing. What was the deal? Why wouldn’t she let me see her naked? Every time I tried to look, she would stop me. And that’s how it ended. She was flying back home and my parents were coming back. We kept in touch for two months after that but there wasn’t a relationship to salvage. I felt cheated. Yes, I had sex with her…many times. But, I never saw her “cash and prizes” once. It’s like flying to your a place you have never been before and trying to look out the airplane window and it’s just blocked by clouds. You are there but you can’t see it…so are you really there?

This still bothers me today. I’m married now. And I never knew what happened to the girl with the mysterious vagina. So, Michelle..if you are miraculously reading this. Please send a pic of your vagina…I need closure.

I called up my friend who introduced me to the vagina-less female.

“Dude…I gotta tell you something.”

He laughed at my frustration. Great, laugh at my pain. But I couldn’t be too mad at my friend…because 7 weeks from that moment he introduced me to another female…my future wife. Stay tuned.

“Hey, this is ______.

The Fine Print

May 23, 2013

Something mysterious happens you get married. Every person knows the routine, but only married people understand what really happens during the wedding ceremony. Imagine standing with the person you love…ready to proclaim it in front of all your loved ones. The officiant says “Do you take __ to be your wife?” The man says “I do.” And then the officiant asks the woman the same question….she replies, “I do.” And they head off into the sunset, ready to embark on a journey through life together right? No, sorry. You might have hear “I do”, but only the bride and groom really know what was said. When a man really says is:

“I do………..realize that once this ring is put on my finger, sex will no longer be a part of the equation. The word “sex” is no longer a part of my vocabulary. My new best friend will be my hand and I will spend huge amount of money on lotion. In fact, after the reception, I should stick up on a few bottles before I go home.”

And the woman says:

“I do…….realize that sex will only be used for procreation. My libido will greatly decrease and will only allow sex during special occasions and birthdays…sometimes. If I am approached for sex I will magically get sleepy and create an excuse for the next encounter.”

It is a widespread problem throughout the world and men meet frequently to discuss it with their buddies. I recently met with two of my friends who were also married and the topic was brought up. We discussed the rough nights of rejection and the frustration that followed. Well, except one of us.

“Really? None? Me and wifey probably have it at least twice a week..”

I was floored. It gave me hope…and I was determine to try tonight. And besides I was out of lotion and I did not have any cash on me to buy some.

So later that night I kicked my game. I said the right things…gave her a full massage after a dinner that I had slaved in front of a stove for. She said:

“You want something?….this seems suspicious.”

I smiled.

“How about we wait until tomorrow. Lets make Tuesdays and Saturdays our sex days.”

And she stuck out her hand asking for a handshake. Handshake? Really? What was this a business meeting? Did I just close a deal? I imagined we teleported to some conference room and after a long PowerPoint presentation I negotiated a deal with her:

“Every Tuesday and Saturday I will grant you access to my vagina with your penis.”

I stuck out my hand and shook her hand. Is that what marriage is all about? I still couldn’t believe it…but one thing is for sure…I wasn’t going to reject it. Or even negotiate for more “sex” days…cause one wrong turn during these types of labor talks would be disastrous. And that would mean more trips to the store for lotion.