Well fork you, too.

22 Jan

awkward

Hey guys, it’s Jess! Comin’ at ya fresh from what can only be described as one of the worst dates I’ve ever been on. We met on OkCupid, and exchanged a few very promising emails. After exchanging numbers, it got even better! This guy’s wit and sarcastic charm was off the charts; I had goddamn butterflies already, and that’s pretty rare for me. I was beyond excited to meet him and see where this might lead.

I should have immediately realized the dating gods were in a mischievous mood when he text me the night before our date and asked whether or not I am beard-friendly. Gasp! No! Say it isn’t so! Surely he isn’t one of those Men With BeardsI thought. Subsequently, I decided to ignore this first warning sign and show up at the pub we had selected. Only to find it closed for a Christmas party…in late January. Liv had just dropped me off (I didn’t want to drive myself in case I ended up having a few beverages. Stupid, Jess. STUPID), so I am stranded outside said pub, freezing my ass off and facing the horrifying realization that I am going to have to get into this man’s car if I want the date to continue. I quickly call Liv to update her and arrange for her to call in twenty minutes if she hasn’t gotten the “all clear” from me, and then I call my date and explain the situation. He is fine with it and says he’ll be there in a few minutes. Crisis averted! Right?

Wrong. So wrong! When he pulls into the parking lot, I prepare myself for that always awkward first hello. Is he going to get out of the car and come at me for a hug? Perhaps a stiff handshake? Maybe he’ll just roll his window down and introduce himself, while also inviting me to get out of the cold and into his warm car. Nah, he does none of this. But he does pull his car up beside me and stare. I hesitate, confused as to what is expected of me, and then slowly walk around to the passenger door. When he still hasn’t moved a muscle (other than the ones connected to his eyeballs, which are following every move I make) I finally open the door and climb in.

This is when I first realize how grossly he has misrepresented himself in the pictures on his profile. There is probably 50 pounds more to him than I am expecting, and I think to myself: “Ahhh! Shitttt! Okay. Well. Whatever…personality, Jess. Personality is more important!” only to quickly discover that this guy embodies not only the physical attributes of a blob but also the charm. He doesn’t say hello or even look me in the eye. No. He just smiles and stares. First in the general direction of my face, but then (with growing creepiness) just at my chest. Which I slowly try to cover with my scarf as I offer up different options on where to go next.

Fast forward to us sitting at a table in the new restaurant we had chosen. He orders two drinks immediately, both for himself (?!), and then starts to complain that he needs to spit his gum out and has nowhere to do it. I’m not sure if he’s actually waiting for me to offer some suggestions, but he finally removes it from his mouth and carefully places it on his coaster. For later, I’m guessing. He then produces a twoonie from his pocket and begins spinning it around the table. I don’t know if it’s because this task requires a great deal of his concentration, but every question I asked him results in a moment of silence as he tilts his head back and forth in a big display of contemplation while gazing up at the ceiling. Gone are the witty, sarcastic remarks that I had grown accustomed to in our online and textual conversations, and I am getting rather irritated.

See, Liv and I have often had this conversation. It’s not easy being sociable and outgoing! Sure, it may come to some a lot easier than it does to others, but for the rest of us it’s a skill that we have to work on. I have to bite the bullet all the time and force myself to do and say things that are outside of my comfort zone. So when I meet someone who is refusing to put forth the same level of painful effort and instead chooses to leave it all up to me, well, I end up getting a little frustrated.

fork 3Anyways, back to the date. I had just ducked into the bathroom to call Liv so I could relay this horror story of a date, and when I return I find that our food had arrived and he is already eating. “I tried to wait but I failed”, he explains as he spears his entire fried fish with his fork and begins to nibble off of it. He actually manages to do this in a dainty and delicate manner, which fascinates me. I watch with interest as the fish begins to disintegrate, sending pieces falling into his lap and bouncing around the table. I watch with even more interest as he picks up all of these pieces and pops them into his mouth. The level of class that this guy exudes is knocking the wind out of me.

After our plates are removed and my thoughts have turned to getting the check and getting the fuck out of there, he suddenly perks up and finally asks me a question. Well halleluiah! Maybe the poor guy is just hypoglycemic and unable to function in a socially appropriate manner until he feeds. As I answer his question (which was regarding my line of work) I notice that he is playing with the skewer that held the olives in his Caesar. It’s actually a little blue sword, you know the little plastic ones that come in drinks sometimes? I watch in equal parts fascination and horror as he starts to pick his teeth with it, eventually putting the entire thing in his mouth and chewing it up. By now I have fallen silent and am just staring as he masticates this plastic sword, when suddenly he begins to pull it out of his mouth, bit by bit. He methodically arranges each piece onto a napkin, forming the shape of a sword again. Then he presents me with “Narsil, the broken sword from The Lord Of The Rings“. Covered in his spit.

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That’s about where the date ended. After I paid for my sweet potato fries and beer, I fled. I was disheartened, to say the least. This guy definitely didn’t exhibit any of the warning signs I have come to look for from previous Dudes We’ve Dated. (Haven’t read that yet? To read the post that began it all, click here), so where did I go wrong? As my friends were quick to point out, this would only happen to me, but I’m willing to wager that there are other stories out there that would at least give me a run for my money. Anyone out there brave enough to share their own dating disaster?

xo

Jess

The Night We Bagged Mr. Bean

21 Jan

kiss bean bag chairOk, ok, ok… So Jess and I know we’ve neglected you all for WAY too long and we feel like jerks to the 1st degree. BUT! we have something that we think (hope) will make up for that.

Just before the hectic holiday season got into full swing, Jess, myself and a few other girlfriends got together one night to mostly drink wine but also enjoy one another’s company. After one too many glasses of wine (this seems to be a theme with us), we decided to call a chat line. Ha, yes you did read that right.

Calling said chat line came about because we were swapping stories of back in our teenage years when we used to call chat lines to entertain ourselves on Saturday nights; and it was after sharing a few laughs that we decided to throw caution to the wind and give it another go. And ohhhh boy, are we glad we did. I think you may be glad we did as well.

Below is a link to a recording of a message we received from a potential “suitor”on the line. Just to give you a bit of context, it didn’t take us long to realize that it really didn’t matter what we said to the gentlemen on the other end of the phone… So my friends and I decided to be as weird, inconsistent and non-sexual as we could with our messages, in order to see what kind of response we would get.

Turns out, anything can be made into a creepy sexual fantasy. Even a bean bag chair. And because we are awesome, we recorded this man describing his bean bag fetish, and are now posting it online for the entire blogoshpere to hear! (Or at least one or two of you!)

Check it out and see for yourself: http://chirb.it/Lbeg0G (NSFW)

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Now, with “respect” to the bean bag chair (I don’t know if you caught that, but that was our favourite part), we want to emphasize that it was not our doing that sexualized said bean bag chair. We were nearly nattering on about daffodils, old 70s TV shows, and reminiscing about our childhood adoration for bean bag chairs – all things that we believed were clearly non-sexual. But our lovely suitor changed all that, as you can see… Which leads up to ask our amazing readers, does anyone use chat lines for purposes other than adding to your spank bank? ‘Cause we really gotz to know.

Side note: Calling all ladies looking for men who will strip for you! Go on a chat line; the place is littered with ‘em. Pretty much every man on the line offered to come over and give us a strip tease. Dafuq! Jess, admittedly, was momentarily intrigued, but the rest of us quickly squashed those dreams. And fellas! Really? Reallllllllllllllllllly? We know that the majority of our readership is probably not those who troll chat lines, but still, was it Magic Mike that made you all secretly want to be male strippers?! Weird.

- Liv

Liv and let die

13 Dec

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The other night, Jess and I were hanging out at our place with a few of our girlfriends. After some very serious conversations about dinosaurs (I still can’t get over the fact that Raptors had feathers…damn you, Jurassic Park for screwing me up for life!) and bowel movements (yes, not only do we poop, but we talk about it too), we got onto the topic of relationships.

This unfaltering topic came up because one of my girlfriends just started seeing a new guy who is awesome, and things between them have been going very awesomely so far (he surely isn’t in any of the Dudes We’ve Dated categories!). She even met this awesome guy that things are going very awesomely with online, so hey, there’s even more awesomeness going around as it gives hope to the rest of us suckers who are still trudging through the not-so-awesome trenches of Plenty of Freaks or OKStupid.

But even though things are going awesomely with Mr. Awesome, my friend can’t help but hold onto a slight fear that she won’t be able to fully get over her ex, therefore denying this new relationship the shot it truly deserves. Even though her and her ex broke up over a year ago now, and have had little to no communication (aside from the obligatory happy birthday on their respective days), she still feels a connection with him and this frustrates her. After hearing her out, one by one the rest of us in the room told her we actually feel the same way for one of our own exes. And like her, even though enough time has passed since we all split from them, we still feel we are holding onto our exes with this sense of hope that perhaps one day, our paths will cross again, the stars will align and monkeys wearing gold suits will fly by on magic carpets, singing, “I Will Always Love You”, all the while juggling ostrich eggs in between hand stands.

Or well, something along those lines anyway.

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But, all monkey business aside, this made us realize that even though there is a serious (and I’m talking SERIOUS) societal pressure for people who break up with other people to get over those people A-SAP, I just don’t think that’s how this whole break up thing works. I split up with my ex roughly two years ago, and as hard as I try, I can’t entirely shake the man. I sometimes have dreams about him; I sometimes wonder as I’m slipping into my stretchy pants to run out to the store to get a slurpee and a pack of SmartFood Popcorn if this will be the day I run into him. And for a very, very long time, I’ve been beating myself up about these thoughts – making myself feel like a pathetic fool for still caring about him.

But, and I ask all of you out there in the bloggersphere, is it really that wrong to still care about a person that I once shared my life with? To still wonder about a person that was the closest to me in this entire world for a point in my life? We are told to “Liv and let die”, but can we? I’m going to finally allow myself to admit what I’ve been feeling this entire time: no.

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I don’t know why people that mourn their past relationships are instantly lumped into the category of “crazy” (and I will add this labelled is intensified if the bearer is a woman). Why we are expected to “move on” and “get over it” once we break up with someone we care about, is beyond me. I will go so far to say that I don’t think we ever get over it.

I think we just learn to accept it better, and with time, the memories of why you cared about that person so much in the first place start to fade, making it just a little bit easier; and then, even their face starts to fade. And then you carry a whole new type of sadness – one that comes with the realization that that person is truly no longer in your life.

But I guess that’s how it goes.

And that’s really okay. Because then you’re prepared for when you love someone again; you’ve got a Swiss Army knife of been-there-done-that emotions, and you have a better understanding of how to handle those emotions when they’re fired up. And that’s a really, really good thing.

So why did I want to share this with you all? Well, it helped me hearing that I was not alone. When my girlfriends were all nodding in agreement, it made me feel human. It turned the “you’re crazy” mutters to myself to mute, even if just momentarily. So I thought, there has to be more of us out there, lurking in dark corners…just waiting to disturb people with our endless emotion (gross). And if I am right on that fact, I hope you too feel comfort in knowing you’re not alone. You now have a crazy, anonymous chick that talks about poop with her girlfriends from the internet feeling the same way you do – and isn’t that just inspiring?!

Yaaaaa, I knew it.

- Liv

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Men With Beards

7 Dec

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Calling all Men With Beards: You! Yes, YOU. I know that you are reading this and that your beard-loving eyes have been drawn to this post. Maybe you were hoping to finally receive some attention and accolades for that face forest you’ve been growing for the past year. But you’d be wrong, because I have a bone to pick with you. A bone that may or may not have been stuck in your beard.

Things are getting a little out of control. I don’t know how society has let it get to this point, but I fear that Men With Beards are quickly becoming the new Duck Face. You know those feelings of irrational rage you get when you see a picture of a woman who is sporting a juicy pair of Duck Lips? Well, that is how I feel when I see Men With Beards talking about their beards. Now I must stress, dear reader, that these homicidal feelings do not originate because of the beard itself. No. It is the attitude of the beard grower towards his bush baby that really gets my goat. We here at LoveFactually actually like beards! They look nice and scruffy, and who doesn’t dig a manly looking man? But the beard-narcissism has got to stop!

Not quite convinced yet? I invite you to continue reading the following examples of Beard Pride that I have extracted from a few different profiles on OkCupid and Plentyoffish:

You should message me if
You like beards.

You should message me if
If you want your socks knocked off. And if you dig my beard.

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My self-summary
I’m in school now, looking for someone who understands that, also you must love beards haha!

About Me

From time to time, I decide to grow beards or moustaches.

About Me
- Must be attracted to beards and/or joyfulness

You should message me if
You’re not offended if I don’t care about your religious beliefs, and you like beards.

My self-summary
I always have a beard. Except when I have to scuba dive, which is a very scary thing to do and I do not recommend it. Seriously, I’m not joking about that, beards are very important.

You should message me if
You love beards. Really, though, you don’t need to love beards; any reason to message me is a good one. But loving beards will certainly help you endear yourself to me.

My self-summary
I have a beard that dominates any and all other beards.   if you don’t like beards or the Simpsons then don’t waste my time.

your_beard_low_resI can’t believe that I didn’t make any of those up. It’s a BEARD! Hair that grew of it’s own accord on your face. I feel as though Men With Beards are operating under the assumption that they gave birth to their beards. Or maybe that it is only through some heroic feat of strength that they managed to attain such a studly display of facial hair. This is the only answer I can come up with that explains such weird levels of self-fascination and adoration. You did not have to do a single thing to grow your fuzz friend. Nothing. In fact, if it really is recognition that you are after then shaving takes a lot more effort and probably deserves the praise. There is nothing I can think of in Female Land (which is real) that can be compared to Men With Beards. We are the fairer sex, yes, and as such can be  more high maintenance when it comes to keeping up our appearance. I have a preference for straightening my hair, and I rarely leave the house without at least mascara. But nowhere on my profile do I state:

My self-summary
I always have mascara on. Except when I have to scuba dive, which is a very scary thing to do and I do not recommend it. Seriously, I’m not joking about that, mascara is very important.

You should message me if
You love straight hair. Really, though, you don’t need to love straight hair; any reason to message me is a good one. But loving straight hair will certainly help you endear yourself to me.

And if I did describe myself in this way do you think any man in his right mind would want to date me? Hell no! But for some reason it is just the thing to do when you have a beard on your face, and you are ready and willing to disqualify any new potential relationships based partly on whether they like your winsome whiskers.

In closing, I would like to share with you an actual chat that took place between Liv and a bearded gentleman she was talking to. The following took place after said gentleman sent her a link to some pictures of himself:

Liv: Haha, I see you’ve rocked the long hair from time to time. Very nice!

Beardy: haha whatd you think of the long hair? or the bushy beard?

Liv: The long hair looks good, and so does the beard! But you also look good when you’re clean shaven. You’re a jack of all trades for looks, I’ll say…..if that makes any sense, haha. So where were you in that hiking pic? It looks amazing!

Beardy:  I was in Lamma Island, Hong Kong. So are you a fan of beards? like, do you like them or do you just not care?

Liv: Oh…well, I don’t really mind either way! Beards are cool by me ;) Haha man, I wish I could grow one! I’m jealous.

Beardy: You should be. Its like an orgasm that lives on your face.

And that’s when their correspondence ended.

Just kidding! Liv went on to have a 4 month online quasi-relationship with this guy. Have you read about her tendencies? You should. Because she does that.

Beardy and Liv

Beardy and Liv

xo,
Jess

Rape You Inside Out

3 Dec

Hey guys, it’s Jess. This is my first personal post and I wasn’t quite sure what to write about until a certain song came on the radio. Every time I hear this song my blood boils, so Imma blog about it and get it off my chest!

I’m as easygoing and open as they come, sexually speaking. More often than not if I don’t understand it I’ll just shrug my shoulders and move on. There generally isn’t much you can say to shock or repulse me, unless it relates to children, animals or…..feces. Heh, I don’t want to play with poo. But I won’t  judge you if you do like playing with it! You can rub that poop all over your bad self if that’s what turns you on. The point I’m trying to make is that I’m not easily offended. I do, however, have a big, fat, rage inducing problem with song lyrics that glorify rape.

handsI know what you may be thinking. “Whaaa? Glorify rape?! Whoa Jess, you’re crazy pants!” But it’s everywhere. And it’s usually hidden under a mask of dominance being portrayed as sexy. Men and women alike are being fed this crap. Case in point: I’m sure many of you have heard the new song by Hedley – ‘Kiss You Inside Out’. It’s being blasted on all the radio stations here in Canada. After hearing it and perusing some of the comments made on Youtube regarding this song I have come to two conclusions. 1) This song blows, and 2) This dude is talking about raping his girlfriend!

Let us examine this a little bit further.  Here are some perfect lyric examples:

I don’t know if you’re ready to go
Where I’m willing to take you girl

Hmm. Then you should probably wait until you do know that she’s ready.

Give up the fight
I’m in control
Why don’t you let it go

…you fucking kidding me? What kind of message is this meant to get across? “Guys, if you push hard enough you can just take whatever you want! And ladies, there’s no sense denying a man the sexual pleasure he seeks from your body, for he is stronger and more powerful than you!” Ugh!

Here’s my personal fave:

I wanna know you inside out.
I’ll spend my life trying to figure out
Just close your eyes and shut your mouth
And let me kiss you inside out

So basically he wants to know her inside out. But only if he gets it in first. And he promises that afterwards he will spend his life trying to figure her out. But first she needs to shut her mouth and let him kiss her.

childOkay, as a 27 year old woman I know by now that this is bullshit; anyone who wants to trade intimacy later on for sex right now is not to be trusted. But the little kids dancing and singing along to these songs are having it drilled into their little prepubescent minds: Boys: Take what you want! Girls: Give in and let go. It’s no wonder children are becoming sexualized at such a young age. Add in some hormones and BAM: You’ve got some confused, pre-programmed predators and victims trying to navigate through the agonies of first dates and initial sexual experimentation.

And it makes me sick! Music is one of the most expressive mediums we humans have; thoughts and ideas are communicated in a way that people can really relate to. Who hasn’t heard a song that perfectly describes something they are personally going through? But it seems to me that the biggest idea being put across by musicians nowadays is sex. Sex, sex, sex. And not even consensual sex, at that.

Let me close with an excerpt from a Shawn Desman song that handily just came on the radio, titled ‘Let’s Go':

Shorty lookin’ right in the club
I know she feelin’ me but she takin’ her time
She dancing all by herself
But I know by the way she moves, she wanna get it tonight.

Gag. What are your thoughts, dearies?

xo,

Jess

I’ve got mail. But nothing more.

29 Nov

Hey all. Liv here.

So I do this thing. It’s a pretty frustrating thing… Where I get myself into these weird online, quasi-relationships. ALL. THE. TIME. You know the ones where you exchange a ton of emails with a person, and then it progresses into some chat action, and maybe even a Facebook friendship? But then, for whatever reason, it stops. Done. Finito. Ugh, why?

Now, I’d like to say (and I have to my girlfriends), ‘they seek me out, dude… they like, stalk me down and make this shit happen!’, but you and I both know what (or whommm, rather) is the common denominator. Yep, little ol’ me.

So why do I do it? Well, I am not quite sure. I’m sure my shrink would say that it’s because I’m afraid to explore a ‘real relationship’ because I’ve been hurt, etc, etc. And I think she’d be right to some extent; but, I think I do it mostly online-relationshipbecause even though I’m happy to be single, I crave a touch of male attention – just enough to give me a skip in my step. And I’m not talking about male attention in the form of Mr. Styles across the bar buying me a vodka-soda-lime, with a wink; I’m talking about flirty exchanges, cutesy comments, genuine male-to-female conversation – the stuff that you just can’t get from your girlfriends. I don’t think I necessarily want (or am entirely ready for) a fully functional, committed relationship at the moment, but I do enjoy having a little something-something, of the good stuff; the stuff that makes you excited without the messy drama that can ensue from dating or going down the casual sex road.

So I’ve decided I want to make an effort to make some male friends. Actual FRIENDS. Am I treading down an impossible road? I really hope not. I used to have a lot of male friends back in high school, when it was easy to connect with the opposite sex. But now, it’s hard to initiate friendship with men without there being the expectation that it will turn into something more (and this works for both members of the party). Jess has agreed to join in on the festivities, so we’ll keep you posted on our progress. Hopefully we can make some cool, new friends; or at the very least, we can get a few hilarious stories out of it for you all ;)

Five Signs that “She’s Just Not That Into You”

27 Nov

We’ve had a few requests from our followers to share some tell-tale signs to prove that she’s just not that into you. Though we recognize that these signs will be personal for us, we have conversed with our fellow female friends and they’ve agreed that these signs are usually a clear indicator to try your luck elsewhere…

1. She’s not making eye contact: You’re at a crowded pub, you see her across the room, and you decide you must talk to her. You approach her and initiate conversation. You’re telling her a great story about a recent trip you’ve taken, or how you’ve just started kick boxing. You think things are going well…but stop and ask yourself: is she looking at me, or is she looking around the room, breaking eye contact more often than not? Take it from us gentlemen, though there may be the occasional cut-throat out there, most women hate being rude to complete strangers, (even the creepy ones). How we’d rather let a guy know that we’re just not that into him is by being subtle, so you must pay attention. If the woman you’ve just started chatting up is not looking at you or adding much depth to the conversation, and if she’s looking around the room as if she’d rather be somewhere else, well then chances are — she’d rather be somewhere else.

2. She’s not ordering round two: So it’s your first date and you decide to play it safe and start with a drink or coffee. You both order a first drink and after you’re done, the server comes around to see if you’d like to order round two. Your date quickly interjects and shoots the idea down, asking for the bill right away. Oh, she’s gotta work early in the morning, right? Um, sorry but that’s probably not why she’s so quick to end the evening. Her actions of cutting it short may be a clear sign that she’s just not that into you. We will admit that there definitely can be exceptions, but more often than not, if a woman is into a guy and is feeling chemistry, she’ll stay for a second or third drink, or hell, maybe even dinner and dessert.

3. She’s not texting/calling you back: So you had a decent first date and now you’re in the texting to meet up again phase of the dating game. You send your new interest a text asking how her day was, and you don’t hear a response back for several hours, or sometimes even a day or two. Well, her lack of communication may be her subtle way of letting you know that she’s just not that into you. If a woman takes a long time to get back to you, and then doesn’t pair it up with a reason as to why she took so long, things aren’t looking too bright for your future together. Even though we do try to play it cool and not write back to all of your messages thirty seconds after receiving them, we still won’t let too much time go by as we are excited and want to keep communication open. Again, women don’t like being blatantly rude, so even though we may message you back eventually, it doesn’t mean we are interested, we may just be trying to be “nice”.

4. She’s bringing along a friend: So you finally work up the courage to ask your co-worker or your fellow classmate out, and when you do, she mentions to John or Mary or both at the desk beside her that they should join too. Yeah. Sorry to break it to you, but she’s just not that into you. And before you say it, no, she’s not doing this because she’s feeling “shy” or “intimidated” or because she’s “so excited that you asked her out that she has to invite other people to join you on your date!!!”. Sorry, no. She’s doing this because she fears being left alone with you. Trust us, if a chick is into you, she’s gonna want you allllllll to herself. No John and Mary along for the ride.

5. She’s vague on the details: So that girl you’ve been crushing on is around, and you think: I’m going to go for it and ask her out! Awesome. What’s even more awesome is she smiles and says yes! But unfortunately, that yes can sometimes be a no. If you ask out a chick and she agrees, but won’t nail down a date of when she could go and changes the subject when you ask for her number, odds are, she’s, yup, you guessed it, just not that into you. She doesn’t want to be outright rude and say that she’s not interested (perhaps because you’ve caught her off guard), so she sweetly agrees even though she has zero intention of keeping that promise. If you walk away without a day/time or without her number, most likely that’s exactly how she wanted it to be.

Dudes We’ve Dated

23 Nov

While discussing what to blog about today over a bottle of wine, we found ourselves describing all the different types of men we’ve gone on bad dates with. Before too long we had compiled quite a list, so we’ve decided to share it with you. Enjoy ;)

Talks A Lot Guy: You know who you are. We know who you are. You sure don’t know who we are though. You’re the guy who spends 99.9% of the date talking about yourself without even coming up for air. We get to travel down memory lane with you, from your days in diapers to a full synopsis of the current book you are reading. And when we are finally able to get a word in, you effortlessly manage to somehow switch the conversation back to yourself. Usually with something along the lines of: “Oh, that’s funny, kind of like the time I…” Stop. ‘Cause guess what? If you notice that your date’s eyes are glazing over and she keeps staring at the door, she’s probably waiting for you to shut up so she can interject saying she’s got the runs, and has to run!

Mister Hipster: You’ve got it down to a t: thick-rimmed, Buddy Holly type glasses, skinny jeans, a “fixie” (in layman’s terms: a one-speed bike). You’re dying to take us to the latest indie pub to pop on the scene, and you make sure to tell us about the five latest bands you’ve seen that “no one else has even heard of yet – I found them first, I swear. I SWEAR!!” Ok…breathe. We believe you. Your fashion icon is Where’s Waldo, yet you jazz his style up with suspenders and skinny ties. As awesome as it is to have a guy be in-the-know on the up-and-coming, there is a fine line between originality and just plain ol’ sheep herding. We get that some people do like skinny jeans and taking spins on one-speeds, but we have to question if you’re doing it for yourself, or just to be cool…

Downer Dude: You’re the guy who is constantly calling and texting to update us on all the crap you have going on in your crappy life. But we’re not talking real crap, like an illness in the family or something actually terrible. No. Downer Dude finds it necessary to persistently whine about all of the minor, insignificant, not even crap enough to be called crap, crap. “Unggggh oh my god! My PVR didn’t record all of my scheduled shows! Whyyyyy meee?”. Get over it. You ran out of milk? Well Downer Dude, buy some more. You just can’t get a break, your life sucks, and everyone hates you? Well, no wonder. That’s because you’re Downer Dude.

Philosophical Guy: Oh, ohhhh where do we begin? You’re the dude who blabs on about “the meaning of life” and “existentialism”, even if you know nothing about either. You’ve mastered the art of making a conversation about the weather seem profound, and you take long pauses before and after every sentence, all the while keeping a look of disdain on your face. Really? As much as we like a man who takes the time to care about things and be passionate, philosophical guy’s over-the-top portrayal of being s-m-r-t makes us think that he is far from. Please, spare us the gag-worthy performance. We smell bullshit.

Mr. Up Himself: Attractive, accomplished, and he bloody well knows it. Mr. Up Himself usually has a place in Yaletown (or perhaps Coal Harbour) and likes nothing more than to casually mention how much money he makes while making sure you know just how popular he is with the ladies. His charm and confidence, which may momentarily stun women into submission, is based on the desperate belief he clings to that he is somehow better than everyone. When Mr. Up Himself is stripped of his fancy apartment and designer murse, all that remains is the fear of inadequacy that he was trying to disguise in the first place.

Space Cadet: “Whaaaaat? I’m on a date?” Umm, yes…you are. So could you please stop staring off into space and commenting on the pigeons on the sidewalk? That’d be wonderful. While it’s great to see various sides of a guy on a date, what’s not so great is jumping from topic to topic so fast, you feel like you’re transported onto the set of The Labyrinth. You may think you’re being “cool” and “mysterious”, but believe me, we see “stoned” and “scattered”. Blast off, Space Cadet, blast off.

Mr. Too Much Too Soon: Otherwise known as, The Revealer. You’re the guy who, for some reason, considers it socially acceptable to graphically describe your recent gastrointestinal problems. As well as delving into all of the highly personal and often strangely awkward details of your last relationship. Somewhere between the mental image of you on the toilet and the knowledge that your last girlfriend enjoyed a good spanking…you’ll see us reaching for our coats and heading for the nearest exit.

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