Come to My Island

This.  Just.  This.  If there is only one entry you ever read, it probably should be this one.

Tinder, Of Course.

Oh man you guys! So much has happened over the past year!  I got new eyes!  Moved into a new apartment walking distance from work! I got a new car!  I found a dead fish on my floor thanks to the cat!  And yet...so much is still the same.

2 Things

There are two things I want out of this life.  A boyfriend is probably your first guess.  Wrong.

Boom

It completely blew up in my face.  Though, I'll admit, I helped push the big red button.  But maybe that needed to happen.  Maybe the foundation of the building was flawed and the building was always doomed to collapse.

Love

I've been hesitant to write the few weeks (months) because I'm not exactly sure what to write about.  I think 3 words sum it up.  Relationships are complicated.

Blowin' in the Wind

I've been promising my friend Dylan this post for awhile.  He really has tried just about everything to get me to write about him.  He deserves a lot of credit.

Unfortunately, his attempts will greatly decrease since he is leaving us for lovely Indiana, so I'm just going to give in.  This one time.

Dear Last Night

To all my friends who were at Bar Lubitsch last night, thank you and I'm sorry.

First, it was just really fucking great to see all your faces.  Second, I appreciate everyone following their "hello" with some version of "is your boyfriend here?"  

Official

Welp.  I have a boyfriend.  And to all those who swear by "You'll find him when you least expect it" I call bullshit.  

Sure, maybe you'll bump into some cute guy (girl) at Starbucks and accidentally spill some of your sugar with a hint of coffee drink on his (her) neatly pressed, light blue, eye matching shirt (dress) that cost him $199 dollars at Marc Jacobs for Men (Anthropologie), and he'll (she'll) just flash a dazzling smile, say it's fine and ask you to join him (her).  

Sure.

One Word - Vegas.

I recently revisited an old stomping ground, Vegas.  The bar/club scene there is a little different than I've experienced elsewhere.  Everyone seems to have one thing on their mind - the one night (or weekend) stand.

God and Guns

So a lapsed Catholic and a Pastor walk into a coffee shop.  The beginning of a politically incorrect joke?

Probably.  But in this case, it's just another day in my dating world.

VD for MA

Happy Valentine's Day kids!  If you're not already reading http://tomyhusband.tumblr.com/, do so.  Why?  Page 8.  "Valentine's Day - I don't care.  No, really.  It's a bullshit Hallmark holiday.  There's no need for candy, flowers, or anything cheesy.  Just make me cum that night."

Enough said.

Let's Talk

I will begin by saying that on this New Year's Eve in San Diego, I was poked with a frozen sausage and that was the most action I got.  I see that as an improvement from last year.

Now, I've come to realize through repeated experiences that girls dislike conversations which are prefaced with some variation of "We need to talk..." just as much as guys.  When a conversation starts in such a fashion it is very rare that both parties will walk away happy.

New Year

I think it's safe to say that we're all ready to move on from 2010, some maybe a little more than others.  Fortunately, I escaped this year with very little drama.  THANK GOD last New Year's Eve didn't set the tone for the rest of the year, then I would have been screwed.  I'm talking "'just the tip' turns into a fist full of thunder beads up the ass" screwed.

Cliche

If you're looking to meet a bunch of sloppy drunk guys who have convinced themselves they're intelligent, I suggest you check out a bar that hosts Trivia on Sunday nights.  But I warn you, it's really hard to be sober and harbor any attraction for the men, even the hot ones.  They've spent their entire day downing beers while watching football.  Now their eyes are red, they smell like stale cigarettes, and think it's appropriate to talk to you with their face just three inches away from yours.

Different and the Same

This post requires me to start with a short story from the book of Cheryl.

I moved to Vegas a month after initially moving to California.  Why I moved is an entirely different short story for another time.  While living in Sin City, I somehow managed to stick with working production gigs, none of which involved porn.  I know you were thinking it.

Football, Music, and Water.

This post is going to be a bit of a hodgepodge, but aren't they all?  It goes from a Penn State bar in the South Bay, to the wonderful world of Nashville, then back to L.A. with a stop at the Grove.  Bonus - there's an actual date thrown in there.

Ménage à Trois

I realize I'm constantly making excuses for being a slacker and not going out like I should, but I work nights and I'm a slave to my friends on the weekends.

This month has been a bit crazy between birthdays and my brother being in town.

Consequently, this post is more a potpourri of moments experienced throughout the month.

First, let's acknowledge the "Woo Girls."

Napkins and Milk

Friday night we re-visited The Room.  Within 10 minutes of walking in I decided I was going to give one of the bartenders my number.

What?!

I know.

I never actually ordered a drink or talked to a bartender the whole night.  But I wrote my number on a napkin and kept it in my pocket until it was time to go.

First Date

With my reoccurring failures at the bars, you may wonder if I ever make it to a first date.

For better or worse, I do.

The other night I met a guy, Chris, at a bar in Santa Monica.

Don't worry, that's his actual name.

Frozen Grenade Anyone?

For the record, I'm not the asshole who stands there texting while you talk to me.  I'm the asshole who stands there taking notes on all the b.s. coming from your mouth.

There's a difference.  At least I'm listening.

I had pleasure of having a friend in town for the weekend.  She's hot and married, hence the perfect wingman.  Within hours of her arrival she witnessed me get ridiculously excited when I heard two guys were moving into the apartment above mine.

Is he cute?  Is he brown?  Would he like to join us for a cocktail?  Is he polite?  Is he clean?