Random Thoughts or Whatever
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DesertRatt
All Bark, No Bite!
This is about all I ever learned about dating.
Don't talk about yourself. Just keep asking questions and LISTEN to your date with earnestness.
DesertRatt
All Bark, No Bite!
Oh hell, that's way better than a limo ride to an exotic restaurant where you don't even know what half the menu items will taste like.
spicer
Lunatic Member
I thought so, so did she.
There's this new guy at work. Let's call him Joe Hipster. He always talked about the best Smashburgers. "How can you like that (fill in the blank)? It is so boring, old-school, passe, gay, whatever."I've seen it nowIf it is romantic it always works. That commercial is funny, reversing roles a bit I've been in that position too but wouldn't just walk out. On a first meeting I would be well put together, formal or not, things in place, good posture, listen and think before I speak. Looking for same.
He continuously checks the latest dating apps: "I can't find a girl who meets my high standards!"
Okay, he finally goes on a date with Ms. Perfect. The week before, he constantly talked about the date. However, he was strangely quiet after the date. A few days passed, and I asked him, "How did it go?"
"Oh, I can tell she's a bitch. Not my type. She's too Pleb."
A month later, they hired an intern. She is super bubbly and outgoing. Then, she talked about her Net date, "Oh, all he talked about was his rich friends, the Ferrari he must have, and the fancy vacations he goes on. I couldn't get a word in edgewise."
You should have seen it when Joe Hipster and the Pleb met the next day.
Yes, God has a sense of humor.
Last edited:
nailer
audionerd
Nope. It was '72 and Women's Lib was telling us guys lots of good things about this brave new world. So three of us who were not interested in attending the prom decided not to ask anyone and see if anyone would ask us. None of us were asked (no **** Sherlock). Instead, we went to Memorial Stadium to see the Os on prom night and had a good time. Although our mothers were disappointed.
spicer
Lunatic Member
Yes, absolutely, sometimes. The sometimes increase with experience. The truth as being honest where deep resonates with deep. What is that by Shakespeare, one may smile, and smile, and be a villain still. At first just poetic prose whose wisdom surfaces along the way.A random thought just now: "Can you really look deeply into another's eyes...and see the truth"?
Ole Bill S. thought so.
Q
spicer
Lunatic Member
That needs no comment.There was this new guy at work. Let's call him Joe Hipster. He always talked about the best Smashburgers. "How can you like that (fill in the blank)? It is so boring, old-school, passe, gay, whatever."
He continuously checks the latest dating apps: "I can't find a girl who meets my high standards!"
Okay, he finally goes on a date with Ms. Perfect. The week before, he constantly talked about the date. However, he was strangely quiet after the date. A few days passed, and I asked him, "How did it go?"
"Oh, I can tell she's a bitch. Not my type. She's too Pleb."
A month later, they hired an intern. She is super bubbly and outgoing. Then, she talked about her Net date, "Oh, all he talked about was his rich friends, the cars he must have, and the fancy vacations he goes on. I couldn't get a word in edgewise."
You should have seen it when Joe Hipster and the Pleb met the next day.
Yes, God has a sense of humor.
You didn't miss much. Just a lot of nervous kids.
How do you organize a space party?
You planet.
You planet.
spicer
Lunatic Member
It would be what one made of it. Almost all of the couples I knew, those that regularly saw each other, didn't go, they had other places to go and things to do. A lot of nervous kids went.You didn't miss much. Just a lot of nervous kids.
Yeah. It was too much of too much. We thought it was mainly for the adults (parents and teachers). A vicarious thing.
TwoCat
Active Member
I crafted this the other day. It's true and kind of long...
I learned at a very early age what goat-head stickers were.
One did not want to venture into the field without shoes on, lest a painful lesson in taxonomy.
Remember Hush-Puppies? Those comfortable shoes with the foam rubber soles?
Remember the desks in grade school, high school and maybe college?
The hard plywood and steel torture-chairs these were?
As a seventh-grade student in a central Colorado junior high school, taking recess after lunch was a nice break from the classroom doldrums. It had rained the Sunday before and in the playground there were puddles of water under the swing sets, therefore it was 'risky' to go for a swing. Nevertheless, I was on the swing when a classmate bully named Roger demanded I give my swing to him. I resisted and we scuffled until Roger punched and pushed me down into a muddy puddle. He laughed at me, pointing me out to his pals.
The bell rang and it was time to return to classes. I was soaked and muddy in class and feeling embarrassed and...enraged.
Two days later, the playground had dried up for the most part but I was careful to avoid the swing set, instead choosing to play tetherball. The tether ball field had a lot of goat head weeds but I had my favorite Hush Puppy shoes on and I was content playing tether with the other boys. Then the bell rang for passing period and it was time to return to classes. As I walked into the school, I noticed my feet being unstable on the smooth floor. Kind of slippery. I ignored it and went to my first class early.
The classroom was nearly empty and I sat in my designated desk. Roger's desk was to my right and ahead a row but within reach. His desk was deserted at the time. The clock indicated it was 9 minutes before class begins, so remembering the odd sensation caused by my shoes, I examined them and noticed the soles were covered with [not mud but] goat head seeds. I started to carefully pick them out of my soles one-by-one and pile them on my desktop. By the time I was done, I had a respectable pile and couple minutes to the bell.
I considered what to do with them. Throw them in the trash?
Then I had an epiphany; that cur Roger!
I quickly moved the pile to Roger's seat and carefully spread them in a single layer with the points up and covering most of the seat. Just as I finished and the bell rang, Roger dashed in (wearing brand-new Levi's) and as I tried not to watch, he smacked himself forcefully onto his chair.
I distinctly heard crackling sounds as the goat heads penetrated the stiff fabric of his new jeans.
Immediately Roger displayed a painful grimace, jumped up out of his chair and emitted a rebel yell that even Billy Idol would salute!
I nearly fell out of my chair as the success of the deed emerged. I turned away and silently pretended to not know what had just happened. (however I could scarcely contain the glee as I nearly bit through my tongue).
His outburst stirred the classroom and the teacher's attention. He began picking at the fanny-full and cry. The teacher inquired and led him away in obvious pain -to the nurse's room. When the teacher returned, she queried the class on who may have done the deed.
Everyone knew Roger and his bully persona, and no body saw any thing.
Roger never knew who dun it and I, satisfied had made my point(s).
It was a good day for a prank!
k
I learned at a very early age what goat-head stickers were.
One did not want to venture into the field without shoes on, lest a painful lesson in taxonomy.
Remember Hush-Puppies? Those comfortable shoes with the foam rubber soles?
Remember the desks in grade school, high school and maybe college?
The hard plywood and steel torture-chairs these were?
As a seventh-grade student in a central Colorado junior high school, taking recess after lunch was a nice break from the classroom doldrums. It had rained the Sunday before and in the playground there were puddles of water under the swing sets, therefore it was 'risky' to go for a swing. Nevertheless, I was on the swing when a classmate bully named Roger demanded I give my swing to him. I resisted and we scuffled until Roger punched and pushed me down into a muddy puddle. He laughed at me, pointing me out to his pals.
The bell rang and it was time to return to classes. I was soaked and muddy in class and feeling embarrassed and...enraged.
Two days later, the playground had dried up for the most part but I was careful to avoid the swing set, instead choosing to play tetherball. The tether ball field had a lot of goat head weeds but I had my favorite Hush Puppy shoes on and I was content playing tether with the other boys. Then the bell rang for passing period and it was time to return to classes. As I walked into the school, I noticed my feet being unstable on the smooth floor. Kind of slippery. I ignored it and went to my first class early.
The classroom was nearly empty and I sat in my designated desk. Roger's desk was to my right and ahead a row but within reach. His desk was deserted at the time. The clock indicated it was 9 minutes before class begins, so remembering the odd sensation caused by my shoes, I examined them and noticed the soles were covered with [not mud but] goat head seeds. I started to carefully pick them out of my soles one-by-one and pile them on my desktop. By the time I was done, I had a respectable pile and couple minutes to the bell.
I considered what to do with them. Throw them in the trash?
Then I had an epiphany; that cur Roger!
I quickly moved the pile to Roger's seat and carefully spread them in a single layer with the points up and covering most of the seat. Just as I finished and the bell rang, Roger dashed in (wearing brand-new Levi's) and as I tried not to watch, he smacked himself forcefully onto his chair.
I distinctly heard crackling sounds as the goat heads penetrated the stiff fabric of his new jeans.
Immediately Roger displayed a painful grimace, jumped up out of his chair and emitted a rebel yell that even Billy Idol would salute!
I nearly fell out of my chair as the success of the deed emerged. I turned away and silently pretended to not know what had just happened. (however I could scarcely contain the glee as I nearly bit through my tongue).
His outburst stirred the classroom and the teacher's attention. He began picking at the fanny-full and cry. The teacher inquired and led him away in obvious pain -to the nurse's room. When the teacher returned, she queried the class on who may have done the deed.
Everyone knew Roger and his bully persona, and no body saw any thing.
Roger never knew who dun it and I, satisfied had made my point(s).
It was a good day for a prank!
k
bluesky
Lunatic Member
spicer
Lunatic Member
I avoided those type. Still do.
