Kate's Point of View

I am dedicating today’s WOTD to some types of guys that have been left out in the past couple of WOTDs.

1. Snaps-His-Fingers-a-Lot
   Yeah you know him – maybe you even work with him. Instead of saying goodbye he snaps his fingers at you. (It’s kind of like the Shooter we mentioned yesterday only this guy is perhaps more creepy and pink-like. (And not pimp in a cool way, Jason.)
2. Bad Pick-up Line Guy
   The name says it all but let me give you an example… On Christmas my cousin Chris comes up to me and says, “Mmm, you sure is lookin’ good. Someone had to tell me you’re my cousin.” Okay, see, that’s sick.

   Excessive staring is also bad, by the way.

3. Cheap Date Guy
   I am the queen of frugal, but girls (and friends) are not impressed if you only go out to places you have coupons for. It gets old.

   In addition to coupons, dates can be too cheap just in general. Like the date I had in high school when we went through the drive through of a Taco Bell and then drove across the street to the Krogers parking lot to eat… too cheap.

4. Weird Body Hair Guy
   Nose hairs should be trimmed regularly. I don’t care how hot you think they are – they are not. Ear hair is the same fellas. Ew.
5. Nice Only When Drunk
   These are guys who in their everyday life are jerks but when under the influence of alcohol turn into Mr. Niceguy. They are totally fun while drinking but fairly much intolerable to be around while sober.

   We can have fun with these guys though because while drinking they often commit to doing things they wouldn’t agree to while sober. If you ever mention the thing they committed to in their drunk state, the sober guy denies it. So you can make a hobby of annoying them by asking favors to them while they’re drunk. 🙂

I’m done now. Maybe I’ll rip on girls for a while.

I am dedicating today’s WOTD to the male strut. You know the one. Mr. Joe cool walking down the street like he just got shot in his left ankle. See, apparently, the chicks dig it when you are gimpy.

In college I was in lust with this guy who we nicknamed RedBeard, for obvious reasons. He was big and liked horrid music and wore a kilt around campus. I can’t speak for my taste. Every time I saw him – every time! – I would ask him what he did to his leg. (He played rugby and I thought this was an okay questions. You know, to show I cared and get it good with him.) He would look at me like I was stupid. Well, let me tell you, that strut is stupid.

Unless you are a rooster or legitimately have a bum leg, that strut is dumb.

Tune in tomorrow to read a WOTD dedicated to the shooter.

I am dedicating today’s WOTD to the male head nod. You know the one. A guy sees another guy he knows and instead of saying hey or waving, he tosses his head in the other male’s general direction. It’s an acknowledgment and then they are done. No other communication need take place.

It has other uses as well.

Friday night, on my way to seeing Tim A.’s band play, I got a nod. Yes, girls get them too, though they have an entirely different meaning. This nodder, as we shall him, was a seventeen-year-old-ish chap on a bike (as in bicycle), smoking a cigar. Apparently I caught his eye while sitting at a light in a car, driven by a male. Paying no heed to the fact the male in the car might have been my boyfriend or husband, this cigar smoking cyclist gave me a nod. He dug me. He wanted me to ride on his handlebars.

It would have been fine if I hadn’t found it all so funny and started staring at him. He went well beyond the cool guidelines of the nod and waved to me and blew me a kiss. That, gentlemen, is not following the conduct of the nod.

Tune in tomorrow to read a WOTD dedicated to the strut.

Every day is a national holiday, just about. Today is Run up the Flagpole and See if Anyone Salutes Day. It’s good though, you know – breaks things up. But it also suggests that perhaps some of our holidays are over done.

Hope your New Year’s Eve and Day were good. Enjoy the break (ah, peace and quiet) before the next big (real) national holiday – MLK Jr. Day on the 19th. In the meantime, find out corrupt you are.

(We were obsessed with this test back in college. This isn’t the one we used but it’s nice that it’s a web form and so minimizes the work for you…)

Scores:
Jason B: 80

Tim: 71? There is no way I’m telling you my number if you’re only a 71. Let’s just say I’m “going straight to hell” (compounded, I’m sure, by the fact that I don’t believe such a place even exists) and leave it at that, shall we?

Danny: 150

Billie: 79

Matthew: 60

Exerpt from Cosmo

“As a private investigator in the wild city of Las Vegas, Charlee had come across her share of good-looking men. But when studly Texas Tycoon Mason Gentry walked into her office, it was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor.” Blah blah blah. Mason hired Charlee to help him find his missing grandfather. Blah blah blah they were like oil and vinegar for the first few weeks working together and then found themselves on the road at a hotel in the honeymoon suite. She gets in naked and the hottub. He follows. They start making out. He’s good, of course. He kissed her long and deep with his tongue, filling her with a kind of bliss she’s never known before.

“He broke the kiss to murmur, “I love your breasts.”” Blah blah blah. They do it, it’s good. “Gasping they drift down from the lofty heights of simultaneous orgasm.” They hold each other and it closes with “And whether or not they would every track down his missing grandfather, one thing was for certain: He cared to much for Charlee to ever let her go.”

My comments:

1. How lame is it to bust out in the middle of making out with “I love your breasts.” Lame, lame, lame Mason.
2. Lofty heights is just straight up funny.
3. The best part of this is the end. Yeah, I love my grandpa, but screw his lost ass, I just got laid.