Well the termites are back.

I think they’re coming from all over hell. I’m surrounded by them.

Called the landlord and she denied that they existed….she denied that they existed.

It’s as though my apartment is located in area 51. Deny Deny Deny.

I called her every hour on the hour to get an update and she eventually she caved and called the exterminator.

Sigh…all i can really hope for is for a termite to bite me so I can start a frivolous lawsuit.

Then again…what if I’m bitten by a radioactive termite?

Would I get the proportionate strength and speed of a termite?

Would I crave wood?

Ok…no…no I would not crave wood.

I’m just trying to look at the possible positive side to it.

Just out of curiosity I did a google search for “termite fetish” thinking there may be a woman that would actually be into hanging out in my apartment and sadly nothing came up….well nothing of interest.

I’ve been in a damn good mood lately. Maybe it’s because I’ve been hanging out with my non married friends more often. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve relaxed more. I’m no longer overwhelmed with the thought of trying to get laid or meet someone. I’m just going with the flow and enjoying myself.

This song has been stuck in my head all day. “been drinkin’ brew for…breakfast”

Friday night Spinal-Tap-Girl and I had made plans to meet up for a few drinks. We hopped to a few bars, stopped in to grab a bite at a deli and ended up at an Irish pub filled with college kids and a bouncer that could have been Christopher Walken’s much less successful brother.

After one drink there we grabbed a cab and as we were going thru a toll I asked, “What happens if someone doesn’t have enough cash to get through the toll?”

Jinx.

The person in the car in front of us was taking a long time to go through the toll. A long long long time. After a few minutes of just sitting there behind them the cab driver started swearing in his broken English.

“What is this state?? This Freaky P. What does he doing? This Freaky P. What is this state?”

We didn’t know what he was talking about until one of us looked up and saw the license plate.

Sure enough. Personalized License plates.

FREAKY P

Maybe it was the beer, the sound of the cab driver saying it, or just the idea of some guy getting the plates in the first place, but we laughed our asses off. I’m still laughing about it.

Freaky P.

What does the P stand for?

I did a google search for Freaky P and did come up with a few hits but nothing that really stood out.

It’s a mystery that may never be solved, but some things are better off unknown.

The exterminator came out today and….DRUMROLL.

Termites.

They’ll have to replace a massive part of my apartment right behind my fridge.

I’m psyched about next Thursday night. Blogger party NYC. I’ve even taken Friday off so I don’t have to pansy out early.

Besides, I may meet someone and end up driving to Vegas to get married.

I met up with Dolly this evening at Macy’s. It was obvious at the start that I have always shopped in the wrong section of the men’s department. I didn’t even see one pair of jeans while we were out.

She was grabbing clothes left and right and handing them to me. I must have had a very worried look because she had to assure me that I wouldn’t be buying all of them, just trying them on.

When we went to the dress shirts she asked me what size my neck was. I had no clue so she asked the guy behind the counter if he’s measure me. You’d have thought she had asked him if he could help me move my furniture..he seemed so pissed at the idea. (15.5 neck by the way).

When we…ok she…found a handfull….ok..armfull of clothes we went back to the changing area. Full…we sat around and waited in line for 5 minutes before a room was open.

This was the moment I dreaded. I hate walking out and having someone judge me…or the clothes..and Dolly could tell it made me uncomfortable. I was dressing as fast as I could from outfit to outfit because I new there were tons of guys waiting outside. Dolly kept talking to me from outside the dressing room in front of all these guys.

Dolly-”You are going to have so many women hit on you with these new clothes”

Me from inside the dressing room-”Umm…how do I say this..”

Dolly- “You want me to shut up?”

Me- “Yes please.”

When all was said and done we picked out one pair of black dress pants and two shirts…just under my $200 budget.

For those of you who wanted to see what Dolly looks like….take a good look at her showing off my clothes.

Not bad ‘eh? Two shirts and black dress pants.
I almost picked up a sport jacket but I figure I can save that for a few more weeks.

On our way out she told me about this cologne that she “adored”. She made it sound like this stuff was so amazing it could take a geek like me and turn him into every woman’s dream just by smell.

Then I saw the package it came with….and well….take a look.

Now….I have no problem with how it smelled…but….I’m a guy that’s trying to meet WOMEN.
Why would I ever buy a cologne that has a tattooed naked sailor on it if I wanted to meet women?

In their defense, they may be trying to market to gay guys. If that’s the case then ok..i get it..and well done.

A few of the choice words of wisdom I grabbed from Dolly over the evening.

On shopping:
-”Don’t wear anything that makes you look like a picnic.”
-”I never met a pinstripe I didn’t like.”
-”If a guy doesn’t call back I assume he was hit by a meat truck.”

I laughed my ass off when I heard these and had to save them as voice memos on my phone.

You have no idea how patient Dolly was with me…she must have nerves of steel and I am forever in her debt….unless the clothes don’t work then I’m going to make her pay me back for them.

A reader has been emailing me and chewing me out about trying to meet women in bars, asking “Isn’t there anyone you work with that you’re interested in?” The answer is a firm NO. Besides the last coworker I dated ended up divorcing me.

I have to say, I feel pretty luck for all of the advice I get. Sometimes it even takes the form of a blog post. Sure I don’t use all of it….or…most of it..but it kinda shows how different people ok…women are.

The problem with advice is, none of it is right and none of it is wrong. One woman will prefer a guy that is extremely dominant and hair-pulling while the other woman will prefer a guy that kneels down to worship the ground she walks on. The problem is. How can you figure out what kind of woman you’re talking to when you first meet her?

I went through some of my past emails and show you some of the advice I get. ALL OF IT is appreciated. So keep em coming…damnitanyway at mac dot com. Note: I’ll take you more seriously if you email me from a mac.

In regards to shaving:
“…shaved balls are disgusting. Trimming = good. Shaved = rubbing newborn rats on your cheek (read: bad)“

On dealing with rejection:
“To get over your fear of rejection you have to go out and try to get rejected so you get used to how it feels. This weekend go up to every woman you find attractive and after talking to her for a few minutes ask her if you can cum on her face”

On an answer to my need for sex:
“I can’t tell for sure but you seem cute by your photo. Ever consider going homo? Guys are much easier to pick up than women and we’re not psycho like they are. Come on, join the dark side cutie.”

On my love of Converse All-Stars:
“Bleah! I do hope you’ve dismissed them as wardrobe items. I’m probably one of the most laid back, non-fashion, non-preening women out there but these shoes would totally turn me off. They scream immaturity (not to mention they aren’t comfortable – arch support is good and make you look taller)“

On talking to women:
“Speaking as a woman, if I know the guy is interested in me, I’m immediately not interested in him.”

That’s the problem with advice, ask 10 people..get 10 different answers.