ickis.com / Julene Horowitz

I know lots of you hate John Mayer and think I’m totally retarded for liking him. That’s fine, because particular gems of man-to-man advice like the one below should not be ignored.

Don’t get me wrong, we all can appreciate those good intentions. However, they don’t say that the road to hell is paved with them for without reason. If you can be direct while still using tact (which is every bit as difficult as it sounds) you will have hit the goldmine.

I don’t give a shit how sappy this makes me look. I am fairly sure it’s not real, but that’s not the point. Better hope your girlfriend never sees this fellas, we’ll think you’d go to the end of the earth (or at least hop through a few countries in your undies) for us, too.

Found via InternetToday.

A few weeks back I found this: 8 reasons to move on from a relationship/dating experience. However, the list seemed to be missing a few key points I wind up bringing up when counseling my female friends about the lame dudes they go out with. I’m posting my additions here for all of you ladies (and fellas) that need to clue in about when to say fuck it & search for Mr. Right elsewhere.

1. If he doesn’t call without you having to ask, move on.
Jesus this is so true. I hate the “who’s going to call/text/IM to initiate hanging out” game–it’s awkward and frankly, after high school these types of power games need to end. More importantly, why should you have to ask someone to call?

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You’ve probably enjoyed the posts where I fling myself in front of the proverbial train when it comes to dating. A few weeks ago I deleted the last of my dating site profiles; I’m putting e-dating to rest, my friends.

“But why, Julene! I like reading about your hilarious mis-adventures.”

Trust me, it’s been fun relating this comedy of e-rrors to you guys. The best part about making bad decisions or at least slightly questionable ones is they lead to stories worth telling people. But I met someone (not through the internet) and it’s time to write about something else. I’m not a one trick pony, friends.

Actually I’m pretty sure this is the perfect explanation as to why people don’t make it past date three with me, really. (However I have trained myself not to create or answer any “list” type questions. It’s for everyone’s benefit, I promise.) I still love Henry Rollins, and I feel all the better for knowing that he can probably get himself off in less than five minutes. Ah, romance!

I got three phone calls in rapid succession recently from a number I didn’t recognize. I don’t know about you, but I don’t answer numbers that aren’t already in my address book unless I’ve recently put something up on Craigslist. When I called the number back I hit an obnoxious voicemail of a recorded song instead of identifying phrase telling me whose phone I’d just rung up. (I thought that went out with pagers around the year 2000, but maybe I’m just out of the loop.)

Here’s the text message exchange that followed:

UnIdentified caller: Hey, how are you?
Me: Uhhh, who is this?
UnIdentified caller: This is Samson, we had lunch once.
Me: Oh, I deleted your number. You should do the same thing with mine!

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