If I’ve taught you nothing else, remember…..

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Are Blind Dates Worth the Trouble?

My dear, poor, unsuspecting friends; we need to have a little chat about something we all know about but are sometimes too shy (or embarrassed) to discuss.  BLIND DATES.

Blind dates are not always all bad.  They’re not always all good either – unless you have a horse shoe up your ass – but most people aren’t that lucky (unless you consider having a horse shoe up your ass lucky at all).  So today we’re going to discuss a few key signs that indicate if you’re on your way to a successful blind date or something that’s quite the opposite.

THE INITIAL CONVERSATION 

Every blind date begins with a series of simple telephone conversations (or in this day and age, email, instant or text messages).  Whatever the case, these are typical introductory conversations where both parties try to paint beautiful pictures of themselves with washable paint.  Don’t be fooled by the initial blind date pre-face convo.  Whether over the phone or on paper, this potential person may sound like you just want to stick them in your back pocket.  The voice coming from the other end of the receiver or the other side of the computer screen gives you a false sense of hope, expectation, and anticipation for something that would be no less better than wolfing down a liter of flat soda and a stale bag of popcorn.

In a nutshell, this convo is usually a set up for a major let down.  However, the initial conversation will probably be the highlight of the date itself.  Stick around and you’ll find out why.

MEETING FOR THE FIRST TIME 

Meeting that blind date for the first time is the moment of do or die.  There’s a part of you that knows if you don’t go through with ringing the door bell or opening the front door for that “potential could-be,” you’ll kick yourself in the shin for depriving yourself of something that could be a sure thing.  However, you could also be introducing yourself to a big bag of shame.  Always keep in mind that in this very moment, you are either in for a few hours of great fun, conversation and company, or a seemingly endless amount of boredom, acute disgust, and/or ideas for revenge for the idiot who thought you and this non-date-worthy schmuck would be a match made in heaven.

Whether you’re pleased with the view from the outer exterior of the person you’ll be sharing the next few hours with or not, you’ve only come upon the first test.  There’s still a small inspection that must take place that will dictate this person’s character a little more than the fluffy initial conversation(s) you may have shared prior to meeting for the first time.

Below are a few tips that will shed some light on the person’s consideration of self, company or situation.  These tips tell how this person sees him/herself and in some cases, their relationships.

  • If you step on a pile of potato chip crumbs somewhere between the living room and the dining room, chances are this person is a pure slob who doesn’t know how to keep house.  They also can’t keep secrets and surely has something hiding in the closet, just waiting to fall out.
  • If there are piles of bread crumbs on the dining room table, keep an eye out for ants.  Where there are crumbs, there are ants.  Either your date is one trifling mofo (motherf*cker) who simply lets the chips fall where they may (metaphorically and literally) or you’re going to be charged extra for bringing a pig to the restaurant instead of a person who knows how to eat respectably and excuse themselves from the table when it comes time to fart before the after-dinner mints.
  • If there are onion peels on the dining room floor, your date will most likely have a problem with personal hygiene.  It’s a proven fact in a book that hasn’t been written yet that onion peels equate to having a closeted funky underarm problem.  Or worse.  An underarm odor in places other than the underarms!
  • If your date utilizes any time telling you about past surgeries, hospital visits or major or minor ailments, they’re probably crazy and you’d do better to run for the border now.  If you’ve never believed it before, believe now that misery is happiest when it has company!

AFTER DINNER KISS

By the time dinner has concluded, your ears have probably bled from all of the listening to nothing you’ve indulged in over the course of the last couple of hours.  Either that or your eyeballs have fallen out of their sockets because you didn’t want anyone to notice how embarrassed you were to be in the company of someone who is obviously below your standards.  Hell, below anyone’s standards! 

The bottom line is though you’re at the end of the date, believe it or not, the catastrophe has only just begun.  You’ve now come to the point of needing to figure out one good reason to bypass the good night kiss.  This usually happens somewhere around the invitation back inside for a nightcap, cup of coffee, or…you guessed it, crunchy cheese curls.  Now if you were smart, you would’ve been thinking about an excuse the moment all your hopes and dreams were shattered when you saw your date for the very first time.

Never go out on a date — first or otherwise — without having a good reason for skipping over the good night kiss; even if it means stopping by your local novelty shop first, to pick up a pack of ass-breath chewing gum.

You always have three options to get out of the good night kiss; (1) come up with a good lie or excuse for not kissing at all (which we’ve covered in the previous paragraph) before meeting up with the date; (2) rip your lips off completely (which isn’t most likely, otherwise you’d be just as f*cked up as your date); or (3) sew your lips together with needle and thread.  Honestly, you’d kill two birds with one stone by stitching your lips together.  By using such a dramatic force of act, what you’d actually be saying (or implying since your lips would be sealed shut) is, “I don’t want to kiss you and I don’t want to discuss why the hell I don’t want your lips touching mine.”  It’s simple and to the point.  It may not be very nice, but who cares?  You know damn well that you have no intention of seeing this person ever again, so manners aren’t necessary.

Now let’s recap.  How can you tell if your blind date is aiming for a nose-dive straight to hell?  Notice the table crumbs, critter infestations, framed hospital photos, onion peels, table manners, chappage of the lips (yes, I made up a word)  and finally the conversation or lack thereof.

Peeping out a bad blind date isn’t that hard to do.  The signs smack you in the face like a heat wave.  You just have to know what to look for, or at least know how much you’re willing to take before you abandon the date altogether to go play in oncoming traffic.


Quote of the week:   “Some relationships fail because people change and forget to tell each other.”

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Who Ate the Last Chicken Wing?

Guys and gals, it’s time that we sit down and have a little interrogation chat about something that’s even more important than world peace – a little matter of who the hell ate the last chicken wing?! 

Eating a man’s last chicken wing is like asking a woman about her age or weight.  You just don’t frikkin do it unless you’re trying to get your ass kicked!  It ranks up there with carjacking, lying and retail false advertisement.  Sure, a guilty culprit may lick the grease off their finger tips or wipe them clean on the fabric of their shirt or jeans, but the evidence lies in the pores of their skin and the aroma of their breath.  And a true chicken fanatic can sniff out the guilty like dogs sniff each other’s butts.

Evidence is eminent.  There is the trail of chicken crumbs; hot sauce stains; and grease-flavored belches.  There is the tummy rub; the heavy eyelids; and the smile of cured hunger satisfaction.  But the one thing that every last-chicken-wing-eating-thief fails to remember is that the last chicken wing usually has someone else’s name written all over it.  And when chicken lovers come back to the table to find that the last wing has been polished off, all hell breaks loose and no one is safe!  Especially if that last wing belongs to ME!

Women love diamonds.  Men love football.  Children love candy.  Old people love prunes.  Young people love booze.  But what about all those folks who scrape up their last dime for a single fix of a box of wings?  Popeyes, KFC, Golden Skillet, Wings & Things, House of Wings, New York Fried Chicken, Church’s Fried Chicken, and even Bojangles makes a killing off of people who are ashamed to enter a 12-step wing anonymous program, and you mean to tell me that there is someone in the world who thinks it’s okay for a greedy mofo to come along and snatch the last wing like a scavenger?  Even pigeons have more couth.

Now if you really want to piss someone off, don’t call them out of their name; don’t insult their intelligence; don’t even miscalculate their change.  Eat their last piece of chicken.  Just be prepared to run for the border because an ass whooping is on its way like a bill collector coming to collect a debt!

Actually, let me paint a more specific picture.

If you or anyone from your entourage decide to sit down for a meal with Hottywood, you can be sure there will be some deep fried chicken wings on the menu.  You can also be sure that when it comes down to the last piece, your fingers better be bound inside your pockets, ‘cause Hotty don’t play that!  Now I may have posed the question of who ate the last wing from the previous meal I shared with a few compulsive wing eaters, but trust me, that question was asked merely to warn the guilty perpetrator.  Because if there’s one thing that never lies, it’s my nose!  I can sniff out some bullsh*t and I can sniff out some chicken wings.  And I will find you!

“Watch your back ’cause I’m coming for you, sucka!”

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Quote of the week:   “A greedy father has thieves for children.”

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Seven of the Most Perfect Ideas to Give to Someone for Christmas (Clean…sorta, and Cheap)

FotoFlexer_PhotoUnless you were born under a rock or are a descendant of the infamous Ebenezer Scrooge, you know the Christmas season is a time for giving (for those of you that celebrate Christmas). What better time than now to think of some things to give to someone in your life that is so desperately in need? Personally, I can think of a few things to give to some people.

I’ve been writing out a list of perfect gift ideas to give to folk. For example:

Give the gift of:

A clue – Let’s be real. There are some dummies out there who couldn’t find their way out of a cardboard box, though it may be really entertaining to laugh at a nut job that can’t tell the difference between in, out, up and down (I would say left and right but I struggle with left and right myself. And if you tell me to get a clue, I’m going to give you a gift, which ironically is next on my list).

An ass – I can think of more than a few people to give an ass to kiss. Sometimes giving someone a finger (middle finger f**k you sign) isn’t enough. After telling them “f**k you!,” you want to emphasize just how much you really mean it by throwing in one final profane gesture (bending over with your butt exposed, followed by the ever popular demand, “kiss my ass!”).

A nose – All too commonly people lose their noses because they can’t stay out other people’s business. I think every person should have an extra one or simply learn how to keep their noses out of other people’s business. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’re an expert on my life and how I should live it. Please continue while I take notes.”

A job – I’m getting real sick and tired of broke mofos (codename for motherf**ers) asking to borrow money and then not being able to afford to pay it back. Giving someone a gift of a job is a sure way to teach them how to value money, especially when they are being begged to give it away for free with no expectation of getting it back as deceitfully promised.

A life – People with no life of their own spend all their time trying to involve themselves in or control yours. In this process, they lose a nose while being so consumed with minding your business.

An assistant – I’m not going to lie, I am pretty lazy and I don’t always like to say “yes” when asked to do favors for other people. However in order for one to have an assistant, they must first have a job.

A pet goldfish – You can always tell when someone lives alone or has no real friends because all they do is talk while never really saying anything. Please shut up! If you give someone a gift of a goldfish, they can talk to it all they want. Perhaps when the fish dies, that person will attribute their endless and usually unwarranted conversation to the demise of the fish’s life. Suddenly a Run DMC song comes to mind (“You talk too much and you never shut up!”).

There’s no need to thank me for this list. Consider this my gift to you.

-Hottywood

JOY


Quote of the Week:  “I put a lot of thought into asking Siri what to get you for Christmas.”

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“Tracks of an Underground Advice Columnist”

A wise man once said . . .

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“A closed mouth gathers no feet.”


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After being holed up in a grungy jail cell for a crime committed by his alter ego, Gardner, a Washington DC newspaper editor, sits down for his first one-on-one interview with the very one who framed him, Hottywood Helps. What Gardner discovers is that Hottywood’s wisdom (per the nonconformist musings of his own witty advice column, ASK HOTTYWOOD!) comes with a past. The advice connoisseur embraces his calling as an unorthodox advice columnist when he finds himself amidst the drama of friends who had betrayed their love interests, in addition to witnessing a sideways cultural upheaval in his very own neighborhood; and in true artist fashion, paints pictures on his computer screen as Gardner experiences the adventures first hand.

Through Gardner’s fingertips, Hottywood’s voice sings in blog posts responding to individuals seeking solutions to their troubled day-to-day lives. Whether he’s filling the seats of church pews or spinning in office swivel chairs, Hottywood does not disappoint in guiding the misguided with over-the-top solutions to small life difficulties and easily comes into this own as a beacon of counsel behind a facade of a pair of dark shades.

Washington DC is a small city with big nerve. Ask anyone.

Better yet, ASK HOTTYWOOD!

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