Why geeks make the BEST boyfriends

In the wide world of dating, there are many options. Do you go for the flashy guy with the smooth smile, or the dude in the corner typing away on his laptop? The following are reasons why I think my fellow females should pay more attention to the quiet geeks and nerds, and less attention to the flashy boys.

1.) While geeks and nerds may be awkward, they’re well-meaning 9 out of 10 times. That smooth dude with the sly grin and the spider hands? Wonder what HIS intentions are… plus, I’ve never had a geek guy not call me when he said he would. Score major points THERE.

2.) They’re useful. In this tech-savvy world, it’s great to have a b/f who can make your laptop, desktop, and just about anything else that plugs into a wall behave itself.

3.) They’re more romantic than they’re given credit for. Ok true, their idea of romance might be to make up a spiffy web-page with all the reasons why they love you, with links to pics of you and sonnets and such… but hey. It lasts longer than flowers, plus you can show your friends.

4.) Due to their neglected status, there are plenty to choose from. You like ‘em tall and slender? There are plenty of geeks/nerds who are. You like ‘em smaller with more meat on their bones? Got that too.

5.) They’ve got brains. Come on now, how can intelligence be a bad thing?

6.) Most are quite good at remembering dates. Like birthdates and such, especially if they know it’ll make you happy. Due again to their neglected status, they’re more attentive than guys who “have more options”. Plus, with all that down time without a steady girlfriend, they’ll likely have mental lists of all the things they’d love to do once they GOT a girlfriend.

7.) Sex. Yep. Sex. I’m not really familiar with this myself, but I’ve friends who’ve been intimate with geek guys and it’s raves all around. They say a virgin wrote the Kama Sutra… all that time thinking about sex, imagining sex, dreaming about sex, (they are male after all) coupled with a desire to make you happy? Use your imagination.

8.) They’re relatively low-maintenance. Most can be fueled on pizza, Twinkies and Mt Dew. No complicated dinners needed here, so if you’re not the best cook, eh. Can you order a pizza?

9.) Most frequent bars as often as slugs frequent salt mines. You won’t have to worry much about your geek guy getting his “groove” on with club hotties because, frankly, he’ll be too busy rooting around under his computer wondering where that spare cable went. You won’t have to worry about him flirting with other women because, 9 out of 10 times, he’ll zip right by them in a perfect b-line towards the nearest electronics store. I’ve seen this happen.
Me: “Eww. Victoria Secret’s Models… They’re so skinny. How is that feminine? You can see her ribs!”
Geek Guy: “ooooooo…”
Me: “Hey!” *notices he is staring lustfully towards the computer store*
Geek Guy: “What?”
Me: “Never mind…”

10.) Although he may not want to go to every outing with you, you can arrange swaps, as in, you’ll go to his Gamer Con dressed as an elf princess if he’ll take you to the ballet. Plus, if he doesn’t want to go someplace with you, you won’t have to worry much about what he’s up to. You’ll probably come home to find him asleep on his keyboard in a sea of Mt. Dew cans with code blinking from the screen. It’s ok. He’s used to this. Just toss a blanket over him and turn out the light.

11.) His friends aren’t jerks. I can’t stress this enough. You’ll more likely get “Omg! A GIRL!! Can I see?!” than “Hey hot stuff back that ass up here and let me get some grub on…” They’re awkward geeks too and will, 9 times out of 10, treat you with the utmost respect and, more than likely, a note of awe. A cute girl picked one of their clan to date? It could happen to them! Hope! Drag some of your single girlfriends over, open up a pack of Mt. Dew, crack open the DnD set and get working. Nothing impresses geek guys more than a girl who can hack-n-slash (well ok maybe if she can code… a geek can dream).

12.) They’re rarely if ever possessive. They trust you, so you can be yourself around them. You like to walk around the house in a ratty t-shirt for comfort? He won’t care. He does too! They won’t get pissy if you don’t wear make-up or don’t want to bother primping your hair. If you gain a few pounds, they won’t try their best to make you feel like crap.

13.) They’re usually very well educated. Physics majors and the like. See #5. You won’t have to listen to him blathering on about his car (ok maybe a little), he’ll have loads of other interesting things to talk about. Politics, world events, how much the chicken burgers down at the local place rock, so long as you douse them in hot sauce…

14.) You’ll almost never have to hear, “Yaw dawg whazzap!!” plop out of their mouths. Unless it’s in jest. They spell properly, use correct punctuation, and are able to tell the difference between the toilet and the floor. They almost never get “wasted”, so you won’t have to worry about coming home to find him and his friends passed out on the floor amidst a pile of beer bottles. Mt. Dew cans, perhaps…

15.) And the final reason why geeks and nerds make great boyfriends: They actually give a damn about you. Not how you look (though that’s a plus), not how skinny you are, not how much make-up you primp yourself up with, but they like you for you. That kind of thing lasts longer than “DAMN baby you got a fine ass!!!” Believe me.

Source

What are little girls made of?

~ Sugar and spice and all that’s nice.
That’s what little girls are made of. ~

The week wasn’t so stupendous but there were tiny victories here and there – dinners, movies, beers, movie requests, tackled work.  For those tiny things alone I will celebrate and call it a good week. Eventhough I am not in the daily company of  The Big Kowaluh (whom I miss very, very much), I still manage to fill my time and the void in my life with other things. O. HUWAG NANG MAG-COMMENT.

I leave you in the adorable hands of this cutie patootie.

Careful, she tells one mean BAMF story.
[Starring baby monkeys lost in frightening trees, a witch, crocodiles, a tiger, a "popotamus" and a lion, and even a "tremendously very bad mammoth". There are also magic powers and an orange ring, but sometimes, "something goes amiss".
Bring your popcorn and enjoy the show.]

COMPLETE WITH A FRENCH ACCENT.

And you think little girls are nice?

They’re put on this earth to break hearts. >:)

James Franco isn’t helping

I mean, COME OOOOON! Those glasses?! A white shirt?! Books in hand?! *dies* The dorkability scales are waay off the charts with this one. He knows he’s hot. He’s just being a big mental tease with those thick-rimmed glasses. He knows he can rock a white shirt complete with a hint of nipple. James Franco was never one for subtlety but it seems today is the first for everything. I mean, he started out in Freaks and Geeks, forfuckssake! Alongside Seth Rogen, no less! And we all know I’ve already confessed my love for that hunk o’ man!

Can’t you just imagine him standing against the moonlight, with his hair tousled, nothing but glasses and boxer briefs on while downing Gatorade after an all-nighter of .. ah .. er .. studying? *shakes out of stupor* Uhm .. I need a cigarette. Here’s a handful of James Franco pictures for your viewing pleasure while I step out  and have a smoke.

I would imagine this is how he gets ready for our date.
*lingers on Devil’s Horns*

B&W really suits him.

They say he’s the James Dean of our generation.

Wetness trumps any other criteria in the dorkable scale.

*licks lips*

I can’t fault a man who loves his guns. Fingers or otherwise.

Oh wait.
THIS is why James Franco is on this blog in the first place – eyeglasses and books strewn about.

Kiss me! (Even if I’m not exactly Irish)

I ALMOST missed PDay! Gosh! But in celebration, I shall post (no big shock there) Pierce to keep you company on your liquid journey. Why Pierce? Because I’m watching him in Butterfly on a Wheel (opposite Gerard Butler (also fucking HOTT)) and I get to listen to his rarely-used Irish accent. *swoons* Granted his acting chops aren’t quite impressive, but really, I don’t think the ladies mind. I don’t think they mind ONE BIT.

Bond. James Bond.

I spy with my little eye a delicious man in a suit.

Cheers!

aDORKable men

I am faulting Clinically Insane for the onslaught of nerd romancing in this blog. It’s all her fault, I tells ya! It is not big secret that I am a sucker for geeks/nerds/dorks, however you want to call them. There’s something fascinating about these creatures. For one thing, they’re really smart (or at least knowledgeable). They have the ability to go on and on for hours .. about accounting, computer games, comics, books, music, food, love and morality, etc. I love that they’re awkward and then start yammering on about other things instead of actually socially interacting. Oh, and let’s not forget the inability to dress themselves. Okay, okay, I’m babbling. On to the pictures else I get lost in my own train of hot dirty, nerdy thoughts.

WARNING: Image (and/or panting) heavy ahead.

Dan Humphrey, Gossip Girl
It’s the messenger bag and quick wit that does me in.

Ned (The Piemaker), Pushing Daisies
It’s the long-winded and carefully crafted retorts that melts me.

Stephen Colbert, The Colbert Report
I just like him for his mind.

Seth Cohen, The OC
It’s the vulnerability.

Henry Grubstick, Ugly Betty
Too .. many .. puns. Must .. resist ..

Tim Canterbury, The Office
He’s somewhat frustrating and has impeccable (sarcasm) timing.

Honorable mentions include The One Who Is Concerned With Love And Morality, The One Who Is A Fangirl Of Wicked, The One Who Talks Economics Like Supply And Demand, and The One Who Looks Like a Kowaluh.

Did I miss anyone?

Who’s the adorkable love of YOUR life?

KOWALUH INFESTEYSHUUUN!

He flew in all the way from the other side of the world and I absolutely <3 him!

Now I just have to decide if I want to keep him in the office or at home. *ponders*

The One That Got Away

by Mark J. Macapagal

(from one of my favorite graffiti artist of all time, Banksy)

In your life, you’ll make note of a lot of people. Ones with whom you shared something special, ones who will always mean something. There’s the one you first kissed, the one you first loved, the one you lost your virginity to, the one you put on a pedestal, the one you’re with …and the one that got away.

Who is the one that got away?

I guess it’s that person with who everything was great, everything was perfect, but the timing was just wrong. There was no fault in the person, there was no flaw in the chemistry, but the cards just didn’t fall the right way, I suppose. I believe in the fact that ending up with someone, finding a long time partner that is, does not lie merely in the other person. I can actually argue that an equal part, or maybe even the greater part, has to do with the matter of timing.

It has to do with you being ready to settle down and commit to someone in a way that goes beyond the little niceties of giddy romance. How often have you gone through it without even realizing it? When you’re not ready to commit in that mature manner, it doesn’t matter who you’re with, it just doesn’t work. Small problems become big; inconsequential become deal breakers simply because you’re not ready and it shows. It’s not that you and the person you’re with are no good; it’s just that it’s not yet right, and little things become the flashpoint of that fact.

Then one day you’re ready. You really are. And when this happens you’ll be ready to settle down with someone. He or she may not be perfect, they might not be the brightest star of romance to ever have burned in your life, but it’ll work because you’re ready. It’ll work because it’s the right time and you’ll make it work. And it’ll make sense, it really will. The day comes when you’re finally making sense of things, and you find yourself to be a different person. Things are different, your approach is different, you finally understand who you are and what you want and you’ve become ready because the time has truly arrived. And mind you, there’s no telling when this day will come.

Hopefully you’re single… but you could be in a long-term relationship, you could be married with three kids, it doesn’t matter. All you know is that you’ve changed, and for some reason, the one that got away, is the first person you think about. You’ll think about them because you’ll wonder, “What if they were here today?” You’ll wonder, “What if we were together now, with me as I am and not as I was?”

That’s what the one that got away is. The biggest “What if?” you’ll have in your life.

If you’re married, you’ll just have to accept the fact that the one that got away, got away. Believe me, no matter how fairy tale you think your marriage is, this can happen to the best of us. But hopefully you’re mature enough to realize that if you’re already with the one you’re with, that this is just another test of your commitment, one which will just strengthen your marriage when you get past it. Sure, you’ll think about him/her every so often, but it’s alright. It’s never nice to live with a “might have been,” but it happens.

Maybe the one that got away is the one who’s already married. In which case it’s the same thing. You just have to accept and know that your memories of that person will probably bring a nice little smile to your lips in the future when you’re old and gray and reminiscing.

But if neither of that is the case, then it’s different. What do you do if it’s not yet too late? Simple… find him, find her. Because the very existence of a “one that got away” means that you’ll always wonder, what if you got that one? Ask him out to coffee; ask her out to a movie, it doesn’t matter if you’ve dropped in from out of nowhere. You’d be surprised, you just might be “the one that got away” as well for the person who is your “the one that got away.” You might drop in from out of nowhere and it won’t make a difference.

If the timing is finally right, it’ll all just fall into place somehow. And it would be a great feeling, if in the end, you’d be able to say to someone, “Hey you, you’re the one that almost got away.”

The 100% Perfect Girl – Haruki Murakami

On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl on a Beautiful April Morning
Haruki Murakami

One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo’s fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.

Tell you the truth, she’s not that good-looking. She doesn’t stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn’t young, either – must be near thirty, not even close to a “girl,” properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She’s the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there’s a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.

Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl – one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you’re drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I’ll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.

But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can’t recall the shape of hers – or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It’s weird.

“Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl,” I tell someone.

“Yeah?” he says. “Good-looking?”

“Not really.”

“Your favorite type, then?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to remember anything about her – the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts.”

“Strange.”

“Yeah. Strange.”

“So anyhow,” he says, already bored, “what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?”

“Nah. Just passed her on the street.”

She’s walking east to west, and I west to east. It’s a really nice April morning.

Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and – what I’d really like to do – explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.

After talking, we’d have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.

Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.

How can I approach her? What should I say?

“Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?”

Ridiculous. I’d sound like an insurance salesman.

“Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?”

No, this is just as ridiculous. I’m not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who’s going to buy a line like that?

Maybe the simple truth would do. “Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me.”

No, she wouldn’t believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you’re not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I’d probably go to pieces. I’d never recover from the shock. I’m thirty-two, and that’s what growing older is all about.

We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can’t bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She’s written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she’s ever had.

I take a few more strides and turn: She’s lost in the crowd.

Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.

Oh, well. It would have started “Once upon a time” and ended “A sad story, don’t you think?”

Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.

One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.

“This is amazing,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you’re the 100% perfect girl for me.”

“And you,” she said to him, “are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I’d pictured you in every detail. It’s like a dream.”

They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It’s a miracle, a cosmic miracle.

As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one’s dreams to come true so easily?

And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, “Let’s test ourselves – just once. If we really are each other’s 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we’ll marry then and there. What do you think?”

“Yes,” she said, “that is exactly what we should do.”

And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.

The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other’s 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season’s terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence’s piggy bank.

They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.

Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don’t you think?

Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her.

**

A re-post. What better way to start Mondays than with heartbreak, don’t you think?

RIP Francis M (1964-2009)

You will surely be missed by all.

His courage chronicled for those in need of strength.

FB**king

The Douchebag’s sister “challenged” me to take a Facebook movie quiz.
Sure, why not. I was bored enough.

It was just 8 questions. A perfect score in 49seconds. GO ME!

And then I scrolled down to see how other people scored.

He beat me by THREE SECONDS.

All of a sudden, I have an (unwarranted) issue.
Please pass the ice cream.
There’s a looong day ahead of us.