Blind dates ...

It's been a while since I posted, mostly because Theo and I have been working towards our podcast which starts today (fingers crossed). But with Valentine's Day in the rearview mirror, I meant to post probably the greatest example of why people shouldn't go on blind dates, or at least do online dating. I mean I have tried it with great results, but there are also the bad ones.

29 dimensions indeed.

It can always be worse ...

It's hard meeting people. Several of my friends have lamented to me in the last week how hard it is for them on the "dating scene." We've all been there. But then there is this guy.

What do his bros say to him when he strikes out with a girl? I'd like to think they say at least one of the following things:

1. At least she said she enjoyed you in "Fantastic Four." You're like a celebrity.

2. She wasn't attractive. Trust me, if you could see through that thing, you'd know. You dodged a major bullet.

3. I told you, you should have shaved.

One in the Boot

In Australia, they call trunks 'boots.' In America, we call butts 'trunks.' There's no correlation there, but if you want to get technical, then technically Australians store their groceries and luggage in their ass.

Anyway, it was a fun weekend that saw Headfoot laugh in a stranger's face because he was bored by what he was saying. He also had 37 cocktails in one sitting and tried to order a pair of British Knights off the Internet. I played frisbee golf for the first time and may have torn my rotator cuff.

Frisbee golf is basically what hippies do for fun when there's not a music festival nearby or a van to hang out in. They play shirtless, wearing jeans, and carrying bottles of cheap beer that, I'm pretty sure, you can't carry around a public park. They stare at you for not being shirtless or having facial hair just on your throat. And they don't really talk to one another as they go from hole to hole. (That's what she said.) They more or less, just stagger around, scratch their throat-beard, stare up at the sun for several minutes, and then look around like 'how did I get here, and what do I do with this strange disc?'

They are really polite, however. Just this morning, I saw one of them offer to put a woman's groceries in her ass for her.