If Only

“Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven?”* It seems spiffy enough. Too bad I don’t have the necroplasma outfit to go along with my new found sense of wanting to end the world.

As I have mentioned in past posts (see here, here and possibly here), I’ve become some guru of relationships because I have “experience” in the subject. Apparently, three serious relationships and a few trial runs equal guru status in the viewpoint of a socially awkward guy. And while I decided to play this game, it seems my “kind,” “humanistic” charm has backfired and now I’m up against the wall, repeating the same damn advice over and over. Which, by the way, is pushing me on the verge of murder and I can’t say that I’m feeling anything else but glee about it.

Cut to the chase

The guy’s a wreck. A train wreck. A derailment so befuddling that the mayor sent in another train.** I have a hard time sorting out the fact from the fiction. The stories are becoming a little bit outlandish – he told one about a girl who “whacked off a guy in class” – as if attempting to impress me. I knew “slutty” girls back in high school, too, amigo. It’s common, especially in the Valley where, apparently – according to the season opening speech – it’s easy to hook up with one for “living” purposes. (Side note: I’m not sure how much of this story is true, but apparently, my assistant picked up a hooker for one of players. Before taking her to the clubhouse, he got a little something something*** on the side.)

In for the Kill

Not only did this socially awkward fellow know several hundred, if not thousands, slutty girls in high school, he also knew some who slept around for cash. A few of which were love interests that went south – so not a euphemism for what you’re thinking, so get your goddamn minds out of the gutter and continue reading.

“Don’t go in for the kill,” I keep telling him the same thing like a record…eh, nevermind, cliché. Yet, for some odd reason, he keeps thinking that’s the way to go. It hasn’t – theoretically – worked out for him thus far, so why take his chances? According to his history, the first girlfriend he had – which lasted only about a week or so, which doesn’t define girlfriend to me, but I’ll let him have it – was also involved with another guy. The second one cheated on him with his cousin after only six months. She later married him and is now a part of the family.

The latter girlfriend, I’m assuming, was the one that did him in. Rumor has it – he told me – that he used to buy her flowers every week, if not every day. I’m talking about expensive roses and etc. This was last year, by the way.

“Buying her flowers a week after you two got together?” I shook my head, “No, man. It’s sweet and all, but c’mon. Only a week?”

Dogma

He’s a believer of love at first sight. Which, of course, is a bunch of bullshit. No one – and I mean no one – ever falls in love in an  instant. Anything you feel in that first few moments is either fleeting or lust – which are the same thing.

He has an adolescent idea of love. Which is cute when you’re sixteen, not so much when you’re knocking on thirty.

“Can we kidnap her?”

“No. Why would you even suggest that?”

“That’s how they do it in Mexico.”

Bullshit. Right? I’m not from Mexico.

Creepy issues that I swore I wouldn’t talk about but am now going to talk about

This guy has no sense of age. I don’t know if his demon – and I’m only assuming he has a demon – is reaching out to mine, but my demon isn’t into jailbait. End of discussion. I mean, mine isn’t really into anyone. It would rather be left alone. He’s admitted to having younger girls hit on him – which is weird, because I haven’t even seen women our age hit on him, but whatever, I’ll let him have it. No. Wait. I won’t.

“Man, I wish I were younger.”

“Why?”

“Then I could pick up the younger girls.”

“Man, that is by far the creepiest shit anyone’s ever told me. I’m gonna go ahead and pretend that I never heard it.”

And not only did he suggest we kidnap his would-be paramour, he also obtained her phone number and started texting her anonymously. Which I haven’t even heard anyone doing like ever – I was a teenager before texting was even invented.

He also thinks that the stadium is his bowl of candy, weighing his options. The guy has a Plan C and hasn’t even made any ground with Plan A – being S*****. And I’ve warned him on several occasions to stay away from a mutual friend’s 18-or-19-year-old niece because she’s a waste of his time and I admire her “I’m not into guys right now, I want to focus on my education” determination.

On the Sly

I don’t know what this guy thinks I can offer. I just know that I’ve exhausted my tips and advice. And quite frankly, I’m amazed I lasted this long.

*Note: The opening line was actually taken from The Amazing X-Men #2 and not Spawn as implied.

**Yes, it’s a Futurama reference, wanna fight about it?****

***Did I just type “a little something something?”

****And yes, that was a Family Guy reference.

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