The Anatomy of Talking to Girls


I’ve discussed a myriad amount of topics on this blog. A prevailing one – that people seem to find popular – is all my rants, musings and trials and tribulations with the opposite gender.


It’s just that’s it is really easy to talk about, because, well, there’s just so much to say. And let’s face it, as a male… women are constantly on the mind. It’s like the old saying goes; women… can’t live with them, can’t live without them.

Sure, you can temporarily get them off your mind with a brief stop at some carefully chosen websites that you know the name of better than you know your own social security number, PIN number or last girlfriend’s middle name. But like I said, that is only temporary.

If I have a girlfriend anytime soon I think the thing about single life that I will miss most is the ability to complain about girls on a daily basis. Not that I would no longer have plenty of material to complain about, but it’d probably be wise to keep my mouth shut, and thus, my blog would become exponentially more boring.

However, right now I am single, and I can say whatever the fuck I want.

Another weekend, and another plethora of unsuccessful attempts at getting women to join me inside of my bedroom. It’s funny because on the surface I actually appear like I am quite the ladies man. My friends joke with me that I always end up talking to random girls “for hours,” which is obviously an exaggeration, but has some merit.

Especially when I have some alcohol in me, I tend to be a pretty social person. At least when I’m not in a goddamn bar where the music is so loud that I can’t even hear myself think. When I’m part of a group of people, and attractive girls are involved (whether I know them or not), I waste no time engaging them in conversation. You gotta introduce yourself right away, otherwise it’s never gonna happen. Then you just gotta find that one connection, regardless of how small it is. Once you find it, you’re in.

Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck I talk about with girls when this happens. My friends always ask me, and I never have an answer. I honestly don’t even think I truly listen whenever I converse with girls. I just make sure to maintain solid eye contact, smile, and agree with whatever she says. That’s all they’re truly looking for anyway.

But, that’s what happens, and I’d say that 95% of the time it amounts to nothing. The thing is, I’m too goddamn nice. I hate to admit it, because being nice is not a good quality, but I am. I have too much of a conscience to not take advantage of girls. If I get super drunk than my morals begin to lessen, but when I think I may be on to something than I don’t try to get too wasted. It’s a vicious cycle.

If anything, I at least lay a very solid foundation for if I ever were to cross paths with the girl ever again. But, for the most part, that doesn’t often occur.

I think it’s just because I  assume that girls don’t want to sleep with me. So I give it a shot, and then when I realize that things are actually going well, I panic. “What the hell do I do now?” Sometimes you just gotta sack up and realize that this is obviously a one-time thing and maybe the two of you are on the same page. Hopefully I will grow a pair soon and improve in that regard.

But at least I do have the courage to talk to girls; that’s never been my problem. I have confidence in myself that I have a pretty decent personality and you just gotta let that show when you talk to girls. The real key, and it’s cliché, is to just be yourself. Be natural. If you try to “play it cool” then you’ll just come off looking like a douche. Trust me, I’ve been there. Many times.

So, I suppose the key is persistence. Don’t let yourself ever get too discouraged, and keep on trucking. Hey, even a broken clock is right twice a day, am I right people? Am I right??

By the way, on Friday a friend of mine came up to me and smacked her beer bottle on to mine to make everything foam out, and somehow the result of it ended up being me buying her a shot. How does that happen??? Damn you females. Damn you.

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