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Before going to another bar and trying fruitlessly to score, find out if you've been sporting any of the following items. If so, they might be scaring girls away without your help.
I am from the future and my people chose me to come back and warn your generation about the oncoming swordslaught. Every horrifying tales of the human downfall involves swords.
A realistic assessment of you, the asshole customer, from the perspective of the most under-appreciated people in a restaurant, the kitchen staff.
I'm a halfie: my mother is Cuban and my father is American. I'm not brown, I'm not white… I'm fucking khaki. And it sucks. Here's why.
Barring the influence of roofies or chloroform, or revenge for you cheating on her/treating her like shit, these are the only four reasons a woman will cheat.
Everyone relies on someone, somehow, some way, at some point. I contacted several of these nouns for a brief thank you note to their better half.
As a stalker magnet, I love my creepers. No, seriously, I do. But I have some advice for the non-regulars who decide to hit on me each week to help step up their creeper game.
After ruling out drug dealer and internet sex slave for extra cash, the next realistic thing was to start playing Texas Hold’em vigorously. Here's how to run your local community center tables.
It's difficult to have one more conversation with your lost love. So the only way to give her your last two cents is to write a letter.
It's a bright Saturday morning and you wake up to find that you're feeling a little bit off. Does your mouth feel like a mix between sandpaper and sawdust? Yeah? You, my friend, are hungover.
I don't have any children that I know of, and I obviously don't understand the fraternity of parenthood, but come on, nobody wants to hear about your kids on Facebook.
I will not be fooled again, because I have learned to speak sports' hieroglyphically constructed language. Here is my gift to you fellow victims: A Partially Definitive Guide to the Terms of Sports.