Bangs, above your eyes your hair hangs

Girl: I love your hair.

Me: I hate it. It's all gray and poofy.

Girl: Is there any part of you that you do like?

Me: Hmmm. Let me think about that.

Girl: You're too hard on yourself.

Me: Easy for you to say, you're a model.

I'm a man, a man of simple pleasures, I got all I need . . .

The other day I received a picture text from a girl:

I responded with: I'll be right over.

I'm only sharing this in case you were wondering what sexting with me would be like.

This charming man, why pamper life's complexity?

Friend: Why did you buy so many boxes of Girl Scout cookies?

Me: They're not all for me. Some are for [Friend], and some are for [Hot Waitress] since she asked me to get a box for her.

Friend: You actually bought her some?

Me: Of course. How else am I going to get her to love me?

Friend: You could try being witty and charming.

Me: Pfffffft.

Friend: You're right. Better stick with the cookies.

She's got hands like a man's with hair on the back

I lost my Swiss Army key-chain knife a few weeks ago. To most of you this wouldn't be a big deal, but you see, it's how I trim my nails. Finger and toe. I also have crooked toes. Crooked toes and long toe nails are not a good combination for me because that's when a few of my toenails try to become ingrown. So last night I got a pedicure in an attempt to curb the ingrowingness of some of my toenails.

While getting my toes worked on, a tall women with enormous breasts walked in to get her nails done. Or so I thought. When "she" opened her mouth to tell the nail person what "she" wanted, it was a voice that was way too low to be a woman's. At that point I felt a little dirty for admiring "her" breasts. But who am I to judge? After all, I was in a nail salon getting a pedicure.

When I went up to the front counter to pay, the tranny looked at me and asked, "So what color did you get?"

"No color."

"You didn't opt for glittery nails? Or maybe something army green?"

"Nope."

"Did you like it?"

"I did."

"Isn't she amazing?"

"She is*. I'll probably have to come back on a more regular basis."

"I like a man who takes care of his feet."

"Not many do. Have a nice day."

Once again, I didn't get a number.








*The lady who gave me the pedicure was hot too - I couldn't help but think naughty things while she was massaging my feet.

There weren't no chocolates, no pretty flowers

Last night my friends and I went to try out a new restaurant, Herbs & Rye. The food was fantastic. The overall feel was like a step back to the time of Prohibition. If you live in Las Vegas, or are in town for a visit, I'd highly recommend it. But since I'm not a food critic, that's not the real point of the post.

After dinner, my friends wanted to go sit at the bar for a drink (apparently this place makes amazing cocktails - I can't say for certain since I don't drink, but I can say that they looked like they'd be good). Everything was freshly made, and they had unique glasses for each individual drink. The owner and bartender take their spirits seriously. It was really cool to watch them work. But again, I digress.

There were a few attractive girls sitting by us, and the owner of the place asked one of them (the one I thought was the prettiest) if she had any plans for Valentine's Day.

"Well, let's see, I'm going to wake up and rub one out, drink a bottle of wine, then go to work drunk and see if I can get fired from my job."

The owner looked at me and said, "Did you hear what she just said?"

"Yeah, I heard." Then I smiled at her.

She smiled back at me and said, "Now don't be jealous."

"I have to admit, I am a little jealous. Sounds like it'll be better than my Valentine's Day."

Always a swing and a miss

Tonight I was sitting at a table with a group of friends when two guys walked over to our table, apologized for interrupting, but then asked if they could get a picture with me. When I gave them a puzzled look as to why, they said it was because they were in the military and I looked like a young Bill Clinton. I felt ridiculous, but agreed to pose with them.

Then their friends found out, and three more guys came over to see if they could take one too. They even offered to buy me a drink to make up for the fact that they were intruding. I posed with them, but declined any "payment."

They were there celebrating someone's birthday. A few minutes later, birthday girl came over and requested that I come to their table and take a picture with the entire group (about twelve people). I obliged. I was paying more attention to the photographer and to the people surrounding me than I was to the girl herself, so I didn't realize she had leaned over so that her pose simulated her giving me oral. I'm pretty sure that picture is going to be on someone's facebook page. Lovely.

If I had any game whatsoever, I would've at least gotten a number. But I don't. So I didn't even try.