"It's like some kind of hot tub time machine..."

So, a friend of mine is convinced that I need a MySpace profile to start meeting girls. My response to this was, "What is this, the year 2002?" However, while it is true that MySpace is currently only inhabited by pedophiles and people who are completely socially inept, I was intrigued by the concept. Do you know what I did? I fucking laid down the triple dog dare. While my friend has had a history of being totally impulsive, I don't believe that she has the guts to carry out this little plan of hers to shanghai my personal life. I guess we'll find out though.

This all came about as a result of my recent, abject failure at trying to score dates on OKCupid (apparently, my dear friend believes I'm doing something wrong, while I still contend that crazy comes with ovaries). If you all remember, I originally signed up with OKCupid as a bit of a social experiment. I considered myself to be not unlike an anthropologist living among some kind of pygmy tribe in the middle of Papua New Guinea. I would infiltrate, covertly, find out what makes online daters tick, and, I don't know, write a paper on it or exploit it or something. The problem became, however, that I...not unlike the earlier mentioned anthropologist would do, I went native.

It's hard enough being busy but it's even more difficult trying to date busy; the more I looked in to it, I went further and further down the rabbit hole. Practically over night I turned from troll to Rico Suave. I chatted up a few broads and, in hindsight, maybe calling them broads wasn't such a good idea. One girl that I had been chatting up for a while went so far as to delete her profile when I asked her to a real world dinner. Maybe she just doesn't like Thai food. The only real thing that I could even consider a semi-success ended in what can only be described as tragedy, but that's a story for the book and you're not getting it for free. It's, Tat least, $7.29 worth of funny.

Now, as often happens, failure has given rise to desperation. Which led me to giving my friend control of a MySpace me. I keep trying to tell her that things are different for girls than for guys and it is far less likely for a dude to have immediate success.

Basically, it's like this: a lock has many uses. It can protect valuables, it can keep unwanted people out of a room, it can keep people IN a room, and what not. A key, on the other hand, only has one use: to lock/unlock the lock. Women have the lock, and guys...well, guys have the key (if you catch what I'm throwing). Without the lock, that key is pretty useless which is why we going around erm...uh...trying out locks. This analogy is now long, drawn out, and no longer makes sense. Basically, what I'm saying is, any port in the storm.

I'm probably making a grave error handing over this kind of power to my dear friend, no matter what I think about her gumption. But, you know, unless I show up at something she sets up for me only to have Chris Hansen to tell me to "Have a seat right there." then maybe, just maybe, things will be ok. Maybe we'll run across some kind of late adopter who is years behind the times who is attractive, intelligent, and has some kind of sense of humor. Maybe, but probably not. I feel like I'm ultimately going to be vindicated as being the one who was right all along. I only hope that I don't have to end up before a judge in the process.

I realize this post wasn't really "funny" but it's a starting point. I got a feeling that this is going to lead to some humor of a championship caliber. If I'm not murdered by the "MySpace serial killer" I'll keep you posted.

I like having the blog back.