Showing posts with label Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Men. Show all posts

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Miss Slik's Dating Advice: The 48 Hour Rule

So there is this movie based on a dating self help book that I'm sure EVERYONE in the English speaking world has heard of called "He's Just Not That Into You." For those who haven't seen it in awhile or at all I'll give you a brief synopsis of the parts that are relevant to this post:

Decently pretty, nice, but slightly obnoxious, brunette chick goes out a date with dude from Entourage (the short, ginger guy who played Eric) and he ends the night with a hug and an "I'll call you." She thinks the date went great but he was whatever about it so he has zero intention of ever calling her again... It turns out this is because he's actually in love with another chick played by Scarlett Johansson.. But it is an unrequited love as he is her mayor of Friend Land who she keeps on the hook while she's off fucking Bradley Cooper's character who is married to brunette chick's coworker. Meanwhile, brunette chick is glued to her cell phone and landline for days on end waiting for this dude to call, answering every time it rings with a quickness even while she's in the shower, hanging up on her mom a bunch of times to keep the lines clear, and obsessing about it with her girlfriends. He doesn't call so she tries calling him. He doesn't answer so she leaves a carefully scripted voicemail... which he then ignores. Instead of taking the hint, she attempts a desperate drop-in at this bar he told her he hangs out at so she can "accidentally" run into him. He isn't there so she asks the bartender about him who turns out to be dude's best bro and he obviously knows his boy is never going to call her. He feels bad for this sad, pathetic girl so he breaks the news to her that "he's just not that into you."

Where am I going with this? Well, the reality of the situation is we've all been that sad, pathetic girl who has waited by the phone and obsessed over why the person we were interested in that we thought really liked us too has not called us back or responded to our texts. This goes for dudes as well because you damn well know you too have been that girl.

I know I've damn sure been that girl and I finally got tired of it. So I asked myself, how long is a reasonable amount of time to devote to waiting on someone to respond to you before you decide to let it go and move on? I decided that the answer is 48 hours which lead to me instituting what I call "The 48 Hour Rule."

THE 48 HOUR RULE: If the person that you are "talking to", dating, and/or involved with in some kind of intimate 'status as of yet undefined' relationship who has been in communication with you every day for more than one week suddenly does not contact nor respond to you for a period of more than 48 hours then you should automatically assume that he/she is either dead, in a coma, or blowing you off.

Now for men, this rule is a little tricky because you are traditionally tasked with the role of being the initiators of contact with women... Meaning she's waiting for you to text or call and doing her best to be cool in the process. So if you're waiting 2 days for her to send a "Hey, how's it going?" text then you'll end up breaking the 48 Hour Rule for her since those texts are supposed to be your move. But if she doesn't respond for 48 hours once you've initiated contact then she's the rule breaker.

Why did I arbitrarily decide that 48 hours is the magic amount of time? Well, a lot can happen in a day and sometimes you just don't get a chance to contact someone or respond because all hell broke loose. But the odds of it breaking so loose for 2 days in row that you can't even find time to send a quick text responding to someone are pretty slim. Plus, if you've only been talking to this person for a couple weeks and maybe been on one or 2 dates then you really shouldn't be devoting more than about 2 days worth of your time being loyal to that person and waiting on them if they aren't responding to you.

If and when this 48 Hour Rule is broken, then 48 hours and one minute after whenever the time was you last heard from that person should be your cue you to begin the moving on process and find a new person to "talk to", date, or involve yourself with in a new intimate, undefined relationship.

People always want to dwell on all these what-ifs instead of facing reality... Maybe he didn't get my text. Maybe he was just busy. Maybe he lost his phone. Maybe he just suddenly fell off the face of the fucking planet where time, space, cell phones, cell phone towers, landlines, computers, laptops, Facebook, email, the internet, snail mail, telegrams, morse code, ham radios, vehicles and gas for which to drive to your home and visit you in person, carrier pigeons, and all other various means, methods, forms, and avenues of communication cease to exist.

Use social networking as your judge. If this person can find time to Facebook, tweet, stagram, tumbl, vine, etc., but somehow can't spare 5 seconds to respond to your text then you obviously know they are not dead and they clearly have good enough reception and access to communication devices to hit you up. This is a pretty good indication that they are just ignoring you... with one exception.

I'm actually taking my sweet ass time responding back to a very scrumptious man I'm legit interested in who is actually new dude I've begun moving on with from old, slightly younger dude who has now officially broken the 48 Hour Rule for the last fucking time as he is a repeat offender. I'm not blowing him off in the standard sense because I'm busy updating my blog which I will then share on my social networking profiles and pages... which will be immediately followed with a text to him so he doesn't get pissed off cause dudes are fucking sensitive creatures. But I know I've started a very short clock.

You'll drive yourself crazy speculating over it thinking what if and there must be some other reason why this person has suddenly just stopped talking to you. If that person is legitimately interested in you and knows they are going to be incommunicado for a couple days for whatever reason then they will give you a heads up about it so they know you know they aren't blowing you off.

Also, occasionally shit does happen where that person has some emergency situation that is of higher priority than you. Hence why the rule includes deaths and comas. Assume he or she died or is in a coma they will never wake up from, mourn their passing, and get on with your life. If this person comes back from the dead or wakes up 6 months later then YaY... But you'll probably have moved on by then.

Many times I will hear from a guy after 72 or 96 hours with some bullshit excuse and an apology. My response to that is usually something to the effect of "Oh good, you're alive." Then I either accept his apology and put him in check on my communication expectations and let him know I had started the moving on process... or I just blow him off in return because I've found someone else.

If this happens to you then how you choose to deal with the offender is at your discretion. It really depends on how much you like that person. Just be forewarned that person may be a repeat offender who will ghost out on you again and again until you get tired of it... much like I did with aforementioned old, slightly younger dude. Other times that warning shot is enough for them to get the point and come hell or high water they will always get that text in by the 46th hour.

Once the 48 Hour Rule has been broken, DO NOT attempt to initiate further communication. I repeat, DO NOT FUCKING CONTACT THIS PERSON AGAIN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES OR FOR ANY REASON WITH THE EXCEPTION OF NOTIFYING THEM OF PREGNANCY OR CONTRACTION OF AN STD FROM THEM.

When someone you're interested in suddenly stops talking to you, it seems to be everyone's first inclination to send that "Is everything OK?" text. DO NOT DO IT! Odds are that person still won't respond to you so your second inclination will probably be to send the "Why aren't you talking to me?" text. That person still probably won't respond. So then your third inclination will be to send some kind of "What the fuck?" text. Then finally you'll send the "Well it's your loss cause I'm moving on so fuck you." text.

Honestly, not one damn bit of good can come from any of that. When you move on, you don't have to announce it. They probably don't care anyway so it's best not to bother. Just do it quietly. Sending those texts just makes you look psycho and affirms why that person doesn't want to deal with you. It could also be that maybe this person kind of liked you but is exploring his or her options. You're not in a committed relationship so they are free to do as they please without explanation... As are you. But sending those texts is a big turn off so you just took yourself out of the running of the options.

It's best to save those inclinations for when someone who you are in an actual, committed, legit relationship with breaks the rule.. Meaning you have straight up had a discussion and resulting agreement of mutual exclusivity regarding dating and sex. Now if that person breaks the 48 Hour Rule then you have a perfect right to get bitchy and go psycho and demand a reason for broken contact because they have restricted your ability to move on and date and fuck someone else without a formal ending to the relationship. But until you reach that point of commitment then your best response is just to do you... and maybe start doing somebody else who you will probably find you like better.

Honestly, 9 times out of 10 there is no special reason other than he or she is just not that into you. Dude told pathetic brunette girl that if a guy is interested in a girl he's going to make it happen. The same actually goes for both men and women because dudes often wonder whahappin if the object of their interest suddenly stops responding to them.

If I'm really interested in a man then I'm like brunette girl.. dopey and obsessing while I'm waiting for the dreamy dude I like to text me either for the first time that day or to respond to me. When he does, I wait at least a few minutes so as not to seem like I've been waiting all fucking day for my phone to go off... then I respond back as cool and casually as I'm capable of because my game is solid and I don't want to give him any sort of impression that I've been obsessing and waiting for this moment all fucking day. But I'm definitely making it happen and doing my part to reciprocate interest.

In the meantime while you're still in obsessive sad mode and realize you're getting blown off, find other ways to cope that don't involve staring at your phone because it will only make you more depressed. If typing a passive aggressive, vague Facebook status you know he'll probably see makes you feel better then go for it... within reason so you don't look psycho. Personally I like to type long winded passive aggressive blog posts instead because that's my coping mechanism. No one ever wants to be rejected by the person they like. The feeling of rejection is probably one of the shittiest of all feelings. Rather than accepting rejection you always want to give that person the benefit of the doubt... much like brunette chick did in the movie.

It really doesn't matter why or what you did because that person is clearly an asshole who either got turned off by something you did unintentionally or met someone else they like better and just didn't have the balls to tell you that you're not the one for them. As much as all of us have been brunette chick, we've all been that asshole who hoped someone would get the hint. I've had to break down and do my own dirty work because FCPD has made it clear they do not exist to end my relationships with obsessive men.

Regardless, all of it shows a lack of consideration and respect for you and you don't need that in your life. Know your value and find someone worthy who is willing to pay that price. Those who refuse are best left alone.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Where the Fuck Have I Been and What the Hell Do I Want?

I've been gone for a minute but now I'm back once again with the serious ill behavior. I've gotten a crap ton of messages asking when and if I'd be getting back on my blog... Many of these messages came from a devoted reader and friend named Phil who has been asking/bugging me for months because he missed reading my awesome incites and anecdotes and couldn't live without them. So shout out to him. He definitely gets the award for the Sliktastic Super Fan of the Year.

So whahappin? Where have I been? Well, one thing that happened was I was just getting burnt out. This blog became like a second job that I just couldn't maintain at the same pace on top of other things I had going on. I missed it though. I also missed all of you my people. I just couldn't stay away. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.

Now that things have chilled out a bit I want to start building Miss Slik's Guide to Gracefully Faking it Through Life back up to its former glory... which won't take much because I'm sure all 10 of you who were reading it before are still out there and loyal enough to come back. So for you I make this deal, I promise I will update the blog at least once a week. I know you'd like more but too fucking bad.

Another thing is the blog was fucking up my dating game. Though it was entertaining for me to write and no doubt for ya'll to read about my tragic dating life, it is kinda hard to date dudes when they are paranoid that you'll blow them up on the internet if they fuck up. I became concerned since it seemed to be scaring off some of the potentially good ones.

This was probably a mistake because I feel like the standard of treatment of me by dudes went downhill significantly. So now I've decided they need to live in that fear. They should be haunted by it daily and have nightmares about it whilst they sleep. Somewhere there has to be a moment of reckoning and karmic retribution for the douchebags of the world... and also the decent guys who act like inconsiderate, immature morons... so they might finally learn from their mistakes and become better men.

The reality is that any man who is worth my time, energy, love, undying devotion, and a change of Facebook relationship status would be secure enough in himself to have the quality of his character and the size of his junk discussed on the internet. He would also be supportive enough of me to let me live out my Sex and the City dreams through my blog without pitching a bitch about it. Those who aren't are probably douchebags with tiny dicks that I really shouldn't be wasting my precious moments of my life on anyway. In the words of the great Lady Gaga, "Can't sleep with a man who dims my shine."

However, the biggest reason for my ghosting out is that I was dealing with some family stuff and felt I probably shouldn't be near the blog. My mom got diagnosed with ovarian cancer last Fall which fucked my world up. I was very stressed out, which in turn, made me extremely sensitive and antagonistic. That might have made for some great, über-dramatic blog posts... But then I'd have had to deal with some massively pissed off people and I was not in the best position to do that.

While my mom isn't quite out of the woods yet, she's doing better than she was. On the other hand, my Godmother Juji who was diagnosed with terminal cancer took a turn for the worst and passed away a little over 2 months ago. She was an amazing lady and I freaking miss her.

Juji's passing has been inspiring me lately though. Life is short and you really don't know how long yours is going to be. She lived a full, epic life and thinking about her makes me feel like I'm wasting a good deal of mine... which needs to change.

There are so many things I want to do that I'm not doing like:
Seeing the world since I've never been outside the country
Becoming a "One Hit Wonder"
Inventing a dance craze
Finally writing that children's book so I can get that J.K. Rowling money
Making the New York Times Bestseller List for said children's book or some other book I could write
Getting my own show
Becoming a stand up comedian
Competing on MasterChef

The list really goes on and on but just those things are a lot to accomplish. Since the blog is probably a great catalyst for at least some of that, here I am again trying to build this thing back up. So, let's get started shall we? Somebody needs to take on The Chive and put an end to those lame ass, annoying green KCCO t-shirts. Why not me right? I'm pretty sure I can come up with much less annoying t-shirts for people to wear while still fully exploring the world of underboob.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

More Adventures in Dating the Douchebags of PoF: Meet Metrosexual Magic Mike

So like a couple weeks ago I went out on a date with this dude whom I would also suggest avoiding or further subjecting to public scrutiny...

PoF Screen name: JJ1325
Real Name: J.J. aka James Alexander Jensen IV aka Metrosexual Magic Mike 




Why Magic Mike? Because whilst on our date, aside from springing on me that he used to be married (cause nothing puts me in the mood quite like hearing all about your divorce), he told me he used to be a male stripper several months ago... Yeah, it's not even so much the former occupation that bothered me as the description of his "act". 

Now get this... He loves rave music and all things rave. Like so much so that when we went downstairs and my friend who was spinning was playing house music, he kept repeating like every 5 minutes on the 5 minutes, "I just want to roll. I just want to pop a molly." OH MAH GOD dude, shut the fuck up about it! It's just Ecstacy. Do we need to make a special trip out to DC? I seriously wanted to smack the shit out of him and not in a dominatrix 'Call me Miss Veronika and lick my boot' sexual sort of way... more like in a 'dislocate your jaw so you won't be able to talk and can just sit there and look pretty like you're here to do' sort of way.

Anyway, bygones... You know those obnoxious glowy gloves that kandy kids like to wear to entertain themselves when they're rolling? Yeah, he apparently incorporated those into his act along with wearing some weird, glow-in-the-dark contact lenses. I spent the better part of the night trying to picture this act of his. All I can say is if I went to a male strip club ready to make it rain and I saw that shit come out on stage, I wouldn't be turned on. I'd be fucking terrified. Considering he couldn't liquid for shit, it probably was somewhat terrifying.

I wouldn't be able to take anyone seriously if they were grinding on me trying to give me a lap dance with little light-up gloves or glow sticks in my face and a Vick's inhaler in their mouths. Believe it or not, it has actually happened before... But I was at a rave at the time so, while I still didn't find it the slightest bit sexy, at least the context was appropriate. I was like 16 though so back then I just laughed and walked away. Nowadays, my response would be, "How much do I need to tip you to get off me and get that fireman with the big hose over there to replace you?"

Also, it just didn't help that dude showed up wearing a pink shirt and bootcut jeans with more detailing sparkly shit on the back pockets than the entirety of a tweenage girl's wardrobe. He claimed he was into fashion and defended his shirt because he thought I had bagged on it when I spotted him while we were on the phone trying to find each other at the beginning of the night. I told him it was just meant as a means of identifying him when I asked "Are you wearing a pink shirt?"

The reality is that I really was bagging on his shirt. But, Niki Slik don't love them hoes nor does she ever admit to making fun of them to their faces when she's trying to fuck them. Ask me anything and I will always tell you "Of course not baby. I love your shirt. I think everything that you wear is sexy. I just think it would look better on my floor." The last sentence about the floor was the only part that is actually true. (Somehow I feel like a rack dudes I used to be "special friends" with are somewhere out there going "That bitch!")

Yes fellas, men can wear pink. But just because you can do something doesn't necessarily mean that you should. What I secretly felt like saying was, "Holy God dude.. For real, this is a pool hall, not a One Direction concert." Now, I like my men pretty.. And believe me, this one was. He had a stomach I could do my laundry on. However, there is a line. I'm sorry for dimming your shine guys, but your outfits should never have more glitter, sequins, or shiny shit on them than the lady you are dating.

That was actually not the end of the interesting fashion choices. I have four words for you: DayGlo orange nut huggers... Hold up! Wait a minute! I'm pretty sure he referred to them as "tangerine briefs". It was too much. All I wanted to know was "Where are the snaps?" This was the only time I've ever wanted to do it with the lights off just to see if those MoFo's glowed in the dark.

But here's what really got me... When he left as soon as I closed the door, I heard a scream out in the hallway louder and higher pitched than any horror movie Scream Queen in history. I quickly opened my door thinking he'd fallen down the stairs or something... No... The screams were all because he clipped the spider web on the frame of my front door.

This dude is a 6'5", like 240 lbs, ex-soldier who went overseas two separate times to go kill people and he's deathly afraid of this teeny-tiny, harmless spider that built its little home outside in my doorway. He told me I should get rid of that thing. I thought about it briefly and decided against it. That spider has ensured all Summer that no flies have entered my apartment because it catches them in its web to eat for dinner. We have a win-win situation going.

I look at this way... That spider benefits my life every day. Dude barely benefited my life for a few hours. Why would I fuck up my karma by killing my door spider and destroying its home to please some dude I barely know who was a sub-par lay with an average sized penis? 

By the way... This advice is for the ladies, don't be fooled when a dude that tall tells you his penis is proportionate. I've been burned on that more times than I care to count. For the fellas, if you make it sound like you've got an elephant gun in your pants when all you're really packing is 9mm, I suggest you brace yourself for a look of extreme disappointment because it's coming. I may not be, but it definitely is.

On a sad note, I'm pretty sure the spider died the other day though and cocooned itself like Charlotte's Web. It's the closest thing I've actually had to a pet in several years so I'm kinda broken up about it. For real, I will genuinely miss that spider more than I will ever miss that dude. 

The moral of the story is: Fellas, here is yet another example of what not to do. Ladies, again, dude is still out there cruising. He'd probably make a decent "special friend with whom to have intelligent, interesting conversations". But quite frankly, he's really not the kind of guy you can take seriously for a multitude of reasons.

Also, a memorial service for Gray Door Spider will be held in my doorway tomorrow promptly at 12noon. In lieu of flowers, I will accept Extra Large Slurpees.