Requirements:

1. Shower
2. Decent clothes
3. Charisma
4. Bar/Lounge or Night Club (Latter DOES require rhythm)
5. Women
6. Little or no morals
7. Condoms (Note the PLURAL, double-wrap, please)

Now guys, if you hone your skills correctly you can tell if you're going to get into a girl's pants 5 minutes into the conversation. However, even when capable of such light-speed evaluation, it cannot be accomplished without adequate prep. Yes, prep, you've got to observe your prey for at least 15 minutes or you could waste precious hours on unsuitable candidates, and worse, go home with all the single losers you came with. First off, there are many factors which affect a girl's ability and willingness to fuck you, obvious ones first (and last, because I don't have time to hold your fucking hand):

Friends. How many are there? Are they calling the shots or is she? A simple way to find this out is to see how they move from one area to the next, who decides it's time to go? Also, watch out for those sinister bitter bitches that just go out so they can torture their friends, always trying to "save" them from any guy that crosses their path. The more of a loner she is the easier you life will be.

Alcohol. Is she drinking it? If not, move on. Even assuming you have all the requirements, trust me, you don't have them in the levels required for sober women.

Sociability. Is she dancing? Is she talking to people? You don't have time to break any ice or coax somebody out of their shell, the only coaxing you should be doing tonight is coaxing her to gulp your... anyway.

So right, 5 minutes. Within 5 minutes you can tell if a) there's any chemistry, come now, she's got to at least not gag at the sight of you, b) her level of intoxication, and c) if any friends you "missed" come crawling out of the woodwork to fuck your shit up.

No conversation to start, conversation bad. Look at her, smile, just not too eagerly, if she keeps your gaze for more than 1 second it's on. Conversation now good. Offer to buy her a drink, if she doesn't say what she'll have buy two drinks, make one a generic beer and the other whatever mixed drink is on special that night, see what she goes for, yes, you have to drink the other drink moron. Start off the conversation light, "So, you go to school around here?" It's bullshit conversation but necessary, there is a timer that starts ticking away in her brain the moment you open your mouth, if you can hold her attention for an adequate amount of time - and by adequate I mean until the point where another look takes place, but the look that says, "Okay, I can see myself fucking him tonight." - then the hard part is over, have another drink.

There is one notable variant one most always be aware of, that of encountering a slut. A slut will seem receptive to all the above, but a slut is fickle, and a slut has one eye on you, and the other scanning the room for something better. It is your job to know when your female falls into the category - please, you can tell - and do everything in your power to keep her attention focused on you, you better be fucking hilarious or ooze charisma, because the more she keeps getting into you the hornier she's going to get and more she's going to want to fuck now, and when she gets to a certain point she's not going to care if Mr. 300% hotter-than-you walks by, because Mr. 300% is probably going to take more time and effort than her already wet pussy has patience for. So you're in.

Fast forward to the next morning, which if you're not a total fuckup will find you in her apartment. Never opt for your apartment, never, use only as a last resort, it's safer that way. Sure there are more hoops to jump through, but then you don't have to worry about bunnies boiling atop your stove, right? Her Apartment: Try your best to wake the fuck up first, set your mental clock, pray, whatever you do just drag yourself out of her bed quietly, and quickly. If it's still dark, just grab the essentials, wallet and phone, you REALLY don't need anything else. If you're lucky enough to have all your belongings in a pile, grab the pile and LEAVE, that's right, do not put on your pants and shirt next to her bed, in her bathroom, or anywhere within earshot of HER, get the fuck OUT the door and put your clothes on there or in the fucking elevator. You do NOT want to wake up next to a woman who just realized she fucked some stranger she picked up in a bar last night, she'll want you out of there faster than if she woke up next to her x. Your Apartment: If you do wake up in your apartment, don't, that's right, don't wake up, close your pretty little eyes and pretend you're way off in hangover la-la land, think about the Smurfs or something, just don't act conscious. She will awaken, shaken and confused, quickly collect her things and leave, then you can really go back to sleep.

Don't mix friends and business? Bullshit, don't mix STUPID friends and business.

The trick is spotting the fucking bastards before they fuck it all to hell.

I have held faith in the wrong people, I have allowed my life to become even more (really?) complicated.

Fuck all you bastards who could not keep it together, who could not adapt for the long-term rewards, who would just rather give-up, and give-up with spite in your fading breaths. Spite that for all intents and purposes should be directed right back at you. Fuck you.

"So, how does it feel to officially be at a crossroads?"

&^!@^%^!@^!*@!*#(@)!~!@#%*!

in a bubble of ambiguity and uncertainty.

where things quickly become deformed and pop out of existence.

the syrupy atmosphere suffocates, yet keeps you safe.

it's better to be here than washed in the cold unforgiving light.

the type that shows all the cracks that time kept hidden away.

it's getting too close.

and the more I struggle, the harder it is to keep breathing.

09.09.99 - 10.19.04

Yes you, CMYK.

A name change, but the Mother will always be there ;)

Happy birthday elf.

Happy Birthday to a very special woman.

I hope your day is filled with lost of love, and presents.

Cheers love.

There is a chemical imbalance at play.

It must explain my current mood.

Because I should not be feeling this happy.

Now.

But I am.

I feel like bouncing 'round the room, hands flailing, singing off key.

Okay, time to fall down.

...words, that is.

I do know what I've put in motion, but I don't know how it will all end, and I still don't know what I'm so close to losing.

Indeed, I know I'm a fuck, I know I've hurt her more than I had any right to, more than I hurt myself, and I know things will never be the same, but I know they had to change.

And no, you don't know what the hell any of this is about.

I love Stacy.

It's fucking October? Christ.