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| Re: A disquieting development by Ice Cream Jonsey 01/08/2008, 12:44pm PST | ||||
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Jerry Whorebach wrote: It's exhilarating, isn't it? That slice of time on the razor's edge before people get to know you well, when good people project their happiness and success and contentment upon you. When they view you as a giving, caring, competent, responsible mensch because they don't know any better. Later they learn that I am, in fact, a shiftless, petty manchild that only really cares about Mr. Do, and slinking. But man, that time before people figure it out is great. For a second there you truly want to achieve great things and be the person your new acquaintance thinks you are, at least initially. It's awesome. Fleeting, but awesome. Let's talk about your rare drop: the postal girl! One of the best ways to drive many females insane with curiosity is to play it cool, which you're doing even though you don't know it. You're getting results even if they aren't through traditional channels. It's like earlier this season, when the headset went out in Chicago Bears replacement quarterback Brian Griese's helmet. He had to call his own plays with a minute left on his own 9 yard line - and won! Maybe that wasn't how anyone drew it up, but it still worked. (Well, for that particular game; he got shitcanned three weeks later and ultimately worked only 9 hours more than you did in 2007.) The more I think about it, the more I think I probably just missed my one chance to propose and get married and have sex and be happy :( Nah, you'll meet some nice gal who doesn't mind ordering a guy around and it will work out just fine. She'll probably even be really pretty. Was this post helpful? I talked about myself, threw in an incomprehensible football reference and then gave you fingerguns without really explaining why. BUT MY METHOD DOES WORK: I went to college with my girlfriend, played it cool for ten years in our 20s when we exchanged maybe one e-mail over that time and lived in different states, and then called Krull a loser when we finally met up again at an arcade, making me look like hot shit by comparison. It worked out wonderfully for everyone except Krull, the 40 guys on the side of the mountain who made an uncoordinated attempt to stop Krull from getting his glaive, and anyone besides you, me and the postal gal who made it to the end of this message hoping for a payoff. To sum up: send yourself three packages in the next month that you have to pick up while she's working. Say nothing on the first, make fun of the name of the sender on the second (thus socially elevating you above this fake person you have created and humiliated) and ask her out on a date after the third. the dark and gritty...Ice Cream Jonsey! |
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