My girlfriend and I had a fight the other day and for a minute there I thought we were finished. Hell, we actually might be still, but I think things are okay. Regardless, I realized a couple things over the last few days.
I need to stop offering up such personal information on this blog. From time to time I’m starting to feel a little naked here. But I guess, as I mentioned in a post a couple days ago, that this is the essence of writing, so maybe I shouldn’t stop.
It’s a good thing that my girlfriend and I aren’t officially broken up, because even in the 28 days that we’ve been officially together, I’ve already forgotten how to pick up chicks. I was trying to jot down some pick-up lines the other night and I really don’t think that the things I’ve been coming up with are any good.
See for yourself:
- “Damn baby, who knew that a pair of shoes could good look so good on a girl with such a large chest!?”
“I’d buy you a drink, but frankly, I’m the one who needs the beer goggles.”
“Say, wanna see my underwear? I’m not wearing any but I have some at home.”
“Will you pull my finger? No? How ’bout my penis?”
“We’ve met before, haven’t we. Wait. Don’t tell me. You were the hooker at Dorf McFlannagan’s bachelor party, weren’t you?”
“Ever seen the movie “10″ with Bo Derek? Well I’m sure you hear it all the time, but you really look exactly like Dudley Moore.”
“Can I buy you a drink? Great! Bartender, another drink for me and a bowl of water for whoever’s dog this is.”
“I’m sorry, I saw you from across the room and I just had to come over here to say something. That look you gave me, when you raised your eyebrows and licked your lips, it reminded me of this time in high school when I saw one of the Faces of Death movies. I think the one where they beat open the head of a live monkey and eat its brain.”
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice that you were talking to that guy over there, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you guys together? Oh, you are together, I see. So, is he blind, then, or what?”
“I’ll buy you a drink if you buy me a condom from the machine in the bathroom.”
“Hey, weren’t you in my gym class in high school? Co-ed gym? No, I never had a co-ed gym class.”
So as you can see, I’d probably be better off not trying to talk to girls in bars or anything. Hell, I’d probably be better off just not talking to girls, period.