Month: May 2015

No More Thong Song

The year 2000 was a different time. Smartphones didn’t exist. There was no such thing as social media. The World Trade Center stood tall in the Manhattan skyline.

I was a senior in high school, and Sisqo’s Thong Song dominated the airwaves during that year. Everyone loved it. The girls enjoyed the catchy tune, and the guys, well, one can easily see why we loved it too. For seventeen year old guys with hormones bouncing around our insides like Pop Rocks inside our mouths, the music video was something else. A short, platinum-haired guy bouncing around women in glow-in-the-dark bikini’s? Yes please (As a side note, if LL Cool J makes a cameo in a music video like he does at the 2:31 mark below, you know it’s about to get real sexual).

If they weren’t already, thongs were brought into male consciousness as a result. The thong industry and guys with ass fetishes should give a big thank you to Sisqo for his efforts. Women started wearing thongs more and more; I would suspect some were motivated to feel more self-empowered and others wanted to attract men.

Today, an article was published by the New York Times: Young Women Say No to Thongs. It details a new movement of women opting for fully covered cotton underwear, abandoning the thongs that have been en vogue for the past decade and a half. These women are choosing comfort and practicality over fashion they believe is designed to appeal to men. There’s a popular line of underpants that have the word “feminist” printed on the back (oh yes, the F Word is brought up). The core of the movement which has gained a cult following is for women to dress for themselves and stop aiming to please other people.

I am all for people dressing for themselves. Women and men should have their own fashion sensibilities; whether we like it or not, the way we dress says something about who we are. Women who like wearing granny-panties should wear them despite what others may say, just as men should wear sweater vests if they feel so inclined despite public mockery.

There must be, however, plenty of women who wear thongs simply because they enjoy wearing them. It’s flat-out incorrect to generalize by saying all women wear thongs to appeal to men. As the article suggests, this movement towards fully covered underwear should be about variety– if a woman prefers more “coverage,” she should feel comfortable enough to do so.

Besides, men should just be excited that they can see women in underwear, period. If a man is getting intimate with a woman and gets suddenly turned off by her underpants, it’s time for him to be put on panty-timeout.

– Chris.

A Buyer’s Remorse

Emily and I went to the mall this past Memorial Day weekend. The usual hordes of shoppers occupied the walkways and shops. I decided to bring a book with me to pass time while Emily shopped. I sat on a bench and in between reading chapters of Stephen King’s The Stand I looked out at the crowd and felt a bit somber. Society has turned us into mindless hoarders and consumers, I thought.

Who can blame us, though? The Internet enables us to see ads of the newest gadgets and the latest fashion 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Holidays have turned into sales opportunities: what better way to remember our fallen soldiers than with a 40% discount at Nordstrom? Facebook and Twitter feeds have been overtaken with businesses pitching their products. Even individuals themselves are becoming advertisements, hence the birth of the fashion blogger. We have become the all-consuming, all-accumulating culture of retail.

I couldn’t help but wonder if any of this mattered. A man down the hall dropped $10,000 on a Rolex even though he could simply check the time with his phone. A woman across the way spent $1,000 on a Louis Vuitton wallet- yes, we spend money to be able to hold our money. I can’t judge- it’s their money- but still, am I alone in finding this level of vanity to be excessive?

Eventually, I was inside the aforementioned Nordstrom, walking around with an 800-page book in my hand. People were sifting through the racks of clothes, others stood in line for the fitting rooms, and employees were busy ringing customers up. An older man stood by the TV and watched sports highlights, waiting for his wife to finish looking at shoes. Emily was on the other side of the floor looking at makeup, and I contemplated the futility of everything.

Then I spotted a nice shirt, waited for a fitting room, liked what I saw, and promptly dropped $60 for it. Let the self-loathing begin.

– Chris.

Pitch Perfect 2 (2015) – A Man’s Review

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

They surely had that in mind when they made Pitch Perfect 2. The sequel to the surprisingly successful 2012 a capella movie followed the same script: a floundering musical performance in the beginning, a struggle to find identity in the middle, and an epic a capella number of a lifetime in the end. I’m not alerting for spoilers because it doesn’t matter if viewers know the ending; the point of movies like this is the ride, not the destination.

The first Pitch Perfect had all the makings of a movie I would totally despise. A movie about an all-female collegiate a capella group doesn’t scream must-see to me at all; that just reminds me of Glee. Who needs to see that shit?

But something strange happened: I enjoyed the first movie. These girls can really sing, and the dorky tone of the movie had a certain charm to it. The movie knew it was ridiculous and didn’t take itself seriously, but instead chose to have a self-deprecating tone. And Rebel Wilson. She’s the female answer to Zach Galifianakis-a comedian with a deadpan game so strong it will make the most hardened of people LOL (we also think she would make a great Disney princess).

I left the movie theater after watching Pitch Perfect 2 thinking that I could’ve waited for this movie to be on Netflix. The story was a complete retread of the first movie; it seemed as if Universal Pictures decided to show the same ‘ol song and dance again because they knew it would sell.

As a result, most of the jokes in the movie didn’t work because these were basically the same jokes being told a second time. How many times will we find humor in men being unreasonably into a capella? Will we always find minority and lesbian jokes amusing? This movie proved that the answer is an emphatic no.

If it wasn’t for Rebel Wilson’s reprise of Fat Amy, I would deem Pitch Perfect 2 unwatchable. She put the entire movie on her back with another great performance, hitting all the right comedic notes throughout. This is art imitating life: Fat Amy believes she carries the Barden Bellas in the way that Rebel Wilson carries the entire movie. Once again, she crushed it.

I wouldn’t recommend people to see Pitch Perfect 2, just like I wouldn’t have recommended people to see The Hangover 2. The sequel could have been much more than it is had the filmmakers been more vigilant about providing a fresh spin on the story of the Barden Bellas. Instead, they chose to rehash the same plot points, resulting in an aca-underwhelming viewing experience.

– Chris.

The F Word

This past Sunday, the most recent episode of Game of Thrones aired, ending in cringe-worthy fashion.  A female character was raped on her wedding night after being forced into a marriage. The scene set the Internet ablaze with complaints and protests about the show’s depiction of women. The upset viewers cried, “Did she need to be raped in order to keep her character interesting?” Thrones, an adaptation of the widely popular book series A Song of Ice and Fire, is deviating from the book’s story more and more.  In the book, this female character wasn’t raped; this particular scene was added by the TV showrunners. As a result, many viewers who saw this scene as gratuitous and sexist are vowing never to see another episode.

Beyond female nude scenes and gender roles on TV shows, a broader topic has emerged to the surface-feminism. What is feminism? Who is qualified to speak about feminism? Are men allowed to chime in on women’s rights, or are we all inherently the oppressor because we are males?

I’ve seen tweets throughout the week from women urging other women to ignore the opinions of men when it comes to feminism because they are not us. I posted a question on my Facebook-Can men be feminists? Women responded with Yes and Absolutely. This role of men in feminism has been debated by women for years.

My belief is this: feminism exists because there’s an imbalance in society. I am fully aware that women have it much worse than men do in general terms. Women have to bear children-that sucks. Women are constantly degraded to being nothing but sexual objects by men-that sucks. The vast majority of domestic violence and sexual harassment in the workplace occurs at the expense of women-that really sucks. Perceptions and stereotypes also affect women: If a woman is quiet in the office, she’s often considered timid and lacking in leadership qualities, whereas a quiet man may be looked at as introspective and refined.

In my opinion, feminism is the belief that women deserve the same basic rights as men do. I also believe that it’s very important to be wary of generalizations when it comes to men and women: not all men are creeps and misogynists, and not all feministic women despise men.


The biggest badass on the planet right now is probably Ronda Rousey. She has risen to the top of the mixed martial arts world, obliterating the competition along the way. She has dispatched her opponents so quickly that entire fights can be shown on a single Instagram post. Sports Illustrated, the magazine that normally puts women on their covers because they’re wearing bikinis, recently put Rousey on the cover with the headline: Ronda Rousey Is The World’s Most Dominant Athlete. I tend to agree.

Ronda Rousey is on top of the sports world.

Ronda Rousey is on top of the sports world.

But even Rousey isn’t impervious to gender biases. She continues to get asked from time to time, “Why are you single?” Some may believe the underlying message behind the question is a compliment-You’re successful, attractive, and men must throw themselves at you, so how do you not have a man? Others, however, may see the question as a gender-biased slight, inferring that something must be wrong with her since she’s single while, on the other hand, successful, famous single men are celebrated for being such ballers and pimps.

Rousey has said that she never intended to be an example for women, but that’s exactly what she has become-a role model. She is a woman at the top of a predominantly male field. Dana White, the president of the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC), once famously said that women will never fight in the UFC; he has since changed his tune dramatically. Ronda Rousey was merely pursuing a passion of hers, blocking out any noise about her gender. She now realizes that she is doing much more than that. This 15-minute segment on Rousey by HBO’s Real Sports is worthwhile to watch:


I do believe in gender equality, just as I believe in racial and sexual orientation equality. But is saying that enough? What role should men play in this battle?

I don’t want this to be a woe-is-me situation; I know that the world’s smallest violin is playing for me. Like many things related to women, I’m just left wondering.

 

– Chris.

 

Checkout Charities – To Donate or Not To Donate?

TJ Maxx Home Goods Cashier: OK. So total today comes to $86.43.
Me: OK. I’ll put it on my credit card.
TJ Maxx Home Goods Cashier: Would you like to donate to Save the Children Foundation today?
Me: No thanks.
TJ Maxx Home Goods Cashier: Are you sure?
Me: *awkwardly* …Yes.
TJ Maxx Home Goods Cashier: [in a condescending voice] Okay. (Shoves me my bags of pillows and other decorative items clearly necessary for daily survival.)

It’s not that I don’t care for children despite my article of potentially never wanting to have children of my own. The same interaction generally happens at Petsmart, except there is no human asking you if you would like to donate, it’s on the credit card screen as:

Would you like to donate to your local humane society?
No Thanks   $1   $2   $3   Other

That is smart. Automated computers never get tired or forget to ask the question. The man in front of me donated, and as the cashier handed him his receipt, he announced, “Thank you for your generous donation today.” Then it was my turn to be rung up. *Gulp*. Now that my wallet is out and it’s clear I have $60 to spend on Kang Kang’s grooming, I should donate at least a dollar to a poor homeless dog, shouldn’t I? I’m sure the woman behind me heard the other man’s donation. Will she judge me and think I am a selfish, awful human being with no heart if I click that ‘No Thanks’ button? Will the cashier smile at me the same way he smiled at the donating man?

That is the problem I have with Checkout Charities. It has capitalized on human psychology and was invented to make a consumer feel trapped, guilted, and selfish if they decline on donating. I once asked a cashier at Albertson’s, “Can you tell me more about this charity? What percentage of the donations go to the actual charity? How much of it goes towards their cause?” She didn’t know how to answer a single question, not even the mission. Well, that is just fantastic.

It really is astounding. According to Cause Marketing Forum’s report, retailers raised $358.4 million in 2012 through this method. Its great for retailers because it makes them look like they actually care about non-profits and great for non-profits because they can profit. All the meanwhile the donations come from the consumer who really has no idea where the money is flowing to.

An article came out in the NY Times recently, titled ‘4 Cancer Charities Are Accused of Fraud‘. Everyone can relate to knowing someone who has been affected by cancer, right? Its devastating and we all want to find a cure or at least make the cancer patients remaining life better. So we slap pink ribbons on everything and hundred of millions of donation dollars later, there goes the executives taking a trip to Disneyworld… without the cancer patients. Only 3% of proceeds actually went to cancer patients?  This is ludicrous.

Not to be confused with Ludacris, a rapper.

Going back to human psychology, I find it really interesting that many stores now ask, “Would you like to round up your change to the next dollar?” I almost always say yes on this one. I don’t know what it is about nice whole round numbers. And for some reason knowing you are donating less than a dollar almost makes it feel like 0. What? My total is $3.01? Sure, let’s round that to $4. Add 99 cents …pfft that’s not even enough to buy a junior cheeseburger post tax.

Anyways, my point is, don’t get scammed into donating. Donate to causes you care about and donate anonymously. Unless you’re in the PAC party, there’s no need to share with the public who you support unless your end goal is to get others to donate to your cause you’ve researched and feel passionate about. Look at every charity as if they are a homeless drunk man asking you for a dollar. Would you trust this person?

Let’s discuss! To donate or not to donate?

– Emily

Reality Bites (1994) – A Second Look

“Don’t look back. You can never look back” – Don Henley, The Boys of Summer.

Some sentiments last a lifetime. Memories from the past become immortalized into permanent nostalgia. It can be a first kiss of a high school crush, a college graduation, or seeing a favorite band perform live. Movies also act in this way: whenever The Shawshank Redemption or Pulp Fiction comes on the screen, I am compelled to keep watching. I get brought back to the 90’s all over again, as if I was watching these movies for the first time. I still love them just as much today; watching Andy reunite with Red (spoiler alert) and hearing Jules recite The Bible before shooting Brad are scenes that stand the test of time. Coincidentally, Reality Bites was released in 1994, the same year as both The Shawshank Redemption and Pulp Fiction. But unlike the two classics, my feelings towards this movie are quite different today from the past.

I actually saw Reality Bites about seven years after it was released: I was only 12 when it first came out. It’s about four friends in Texas, freshly graduated from college, and faced with the reality of adulthood. Lelaina is a struggling filmmaker; Troy is a rebellious musician; Vickie is a promiscuous Gap employee; and Sammy is a closeted homosexual in the conservative State. Lelaina is making a documentary about their lives when she eventually meets Michael, a TV executive who wants to date her and air her documentary on his channel. She agrees to both, but the edits made to Lelaina’s documentary by Michael’s producers represent the commercialization and artistic compromising of Corporate America that she and her three friends despise. Predictably, Lelaina and Troy were in love with each other the whole time and they end up together.

Back then, I thought the four friends represented a cool counter-culture of artistic integrity, a purity of youth, and an anti-establishment spirit that wasn’t motivated by money. Today, these characters seem less sophisticated and more misguided and naïve. Troy used to be a man of principles, but now he comes off as a rebel without a cause. Lelaina was an underground documentarian with an original idea, but maybe she was just a novice filmmaker who lacked the skills to make a good product. Michael was a sellout who was kowtowing to The Man, but should we overlook his strong work ethic and ambition? Lelaina, Troy, and her friends are dreamers, and I appreciate that, but what’s a dream without direction and drive? If the movie showed Troy approaching record labels in an attempt to get his music picked up or Lelaina going to different directors to get the tips of her trade, I would have more respect for them. Instead, they spent less time doing and more time complaining and lamenting. There is no replacement for hard work: that is where passion lies.

I will say, however, that the music of Reality Bites continues to bring me back my younger days. Lisa Loeb’s Stay was a colossal hit back in the 90’s. Lelaina and Vickie singing Squeeze’s Tempted in the car is still a great scene, and perhaps the most memorable scene of all occurs when Lelaina, Vickie, and Sammy break into a spontaneous dance craze to My Sharona in a local gas station.

It’s a funny thing to revisit something from the past, and a funnier thing, still, to realize that the sentiment has changed.  Our past feelings are different because we are different. Whether it’s due to the callousness or maturity of adulthood, we will look back and change our minds about the past. I imagine the Baby Boomers have a similar experience with The Graduate as I do with Reality Bites: what was once a movie about young adults with youthful exuberance and hope is now a movie about kids who don’t really know a damn thing about life because they haven’t lived enough yet. Perhaps that is why Don Henley urges us not to look back-we may not like what we see.

– Chris.

A Personal Vignette II: The Orange Dress

The dance floor was a sea of bodies. People were dancing, yet no one had any space to move. My friends and I had been there many times, and on this particular night there were five of us.  We were two hours into our night and by then the drinks were flowing. We felt good, and the vibe was whimsical. Everyone was having fun.

The club was dark inside, with the main sources of light being the blue beams that highlighted the dance floors and the bars. There were three bars at this club: one near the main entrance and one in the back of each of the two dance floors. There was a constant stream of patrons peddling through the dark walkways that connected the two dance floors; the restroom, which was located in between the dance floors; and the outside patio, where people went out to catch some fresh air and smoke cigarettes.

Inside, it was loud; the combination of the music blasting and the raucous of the crowd was a familiar noise. Every now and then a glass would break, but no one really cared. One dance floor played house and the other played hip-hop. The hip-hop floor was the more popular one.

At this particular moment, I was alone. I had either gone to the restroom or the bar, I can’t remember which. People were all around but I didn’t know any of them. I felt the weight of solitude in a place where people existed in groups. I went looking for my friends.

I knew some of them had to be on the hip-hop floor. I quickly spotted Tony and Alan. Tony had a huge grin on his face; he was probably on drink number eight. Alan was bobbing his head to the music with a relaxed smile, because, well, that’s what Alan does. I didn’t see Dave or Jeff anywhere. They were probably having a smoke outside.

I was with Tony and Alan when I saw her. In a crowd full of moving body parts she seemed to stand still. She was a good ten feet away from me. We caught eyes, and for some reason neither of us looked away. She had curly hair, dyed brown, that went down to the shoulders, and she was wearing an orange dress. She might have been Chinese or Vietnamese; I was never good at telling. We locked eyes for a good ten seconds. She was pretty, and she was smiling. Then she called me over with her index finger.

I didn’t refuse the invitation. I might have thought her advances were strange and been put off by them had I not been as intoxicated as I was from the drinking. But I didn’t care; she seemed harmless, and a woman’s smile can disarm even the most guarded men. I came up to her and she placed her arms on top of my shoulders, wrapping them around my neck. She was about five inches shorter than me. We began to dance. She had the same look on her face throughout-that easy smile which looked painted on her face by a smooth brush. She kept her eyes on me as we moved closer together, and then we kissed.

There was no hello. I didn’t even know the sound of her voice, let alone her name, and yet here we were, sucking face on the hip-hop floor. I was buzzed but fully aware of how odd this was, and I just went with it. We continued for about five minutes. Afterwards, I lifted my head and felt the alcohol rushing through my brain. It was as if I had sucked some booze out of the girl’s mouth and into my system. I looked at her and she gave me one last smile, and then she walked away without saying a single word. I was a bit shocked.

Then the music stopped and the lights turned on. The once boisterous crowd composed themselves, turning off their wild, uninhibited alter egos that were present just a while before. I was still in a daze, the combination of the drinks and the girl in the orange dress leaving me a bit disheveled. Our group walked out of the club together. I didn’t tell any of them what happened.

We were walking back to our car when I saw her again. She was walking barefoot, heels in hand. Our exchange a half hour ago was so bizarre that I felt compelled to go over to her to try to make some sense of it all. I sneaked away from my friends and began walking towards her. I was heading her way when I stopped in my tracks: the girl in the orange dress rushed to a nearby trash can, bent over it, and started vomiting. A girlfriend held her hair back as she heaved with her entire upper body. I quickly turned back and caught up with my friends as if I never changed direction at all.

I learned something valuable that night: Making out with a random girl in a club is a risk-she might throw up in your face.

– Chris.

The Bait and Switch Follower

There we were Friday afternoon around 3pm, listening to our iPhones simultaneously chime as the WordPress notification’s cheerful tone went baaddiinngg!  Scrambling to our phones, unlocking our screens, there it was. The beautiful shiny badge:

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100 Followers! As we hugged each other, jumping up and down like we were at a Tiesto concert, we giddily gushed about our excitement that 100 readers subscribed to our infant blog. Pop the champagne! Order the 3-tier chocolate lava cake! Put on some Kool & The Gang. Release the streamers and balloons! It’s celebration good times, come on!

Eager to see who our 100th follower was, I looked back at our notifications. Wait a minute. Were we hallucinating?? It says we have ninety-nine! 99 followers and a bitch ain’t one. The follower bitch unfollowed us! The nerves. This bait & switch act is preposterous! It is like…

– Chasing the girl of your dreams until she finally gives into a first date and you say, “HA HA HA SIKE! YOU’RE SO EASY.”

– Clicking on a Buzzfeed article in hopes to learn something slightly intellectual based on the title, only to see it’s another post filled with cats and Justin Bieber’s hair.

Bait and switch followers. I can’t imagine what goes through that followers mind. “Hey Bruce, watch this… I will follow this person’s blog, let them feel a glimmer of excitement and pleasure, wait 10 minutes, just enough time to allow them to click on my profile and follow me back. Wait for it… wait for it.. *clicks unfollow*.” Their justification is they are higher up on the internet pyramid and therefore walk on mighty internet ground. They matter-o-factly state, “I will continue to rise with a higher follower:following ratio while they stupidly think their ratio continues to be 1:1. Bahaha. Call me the Phantom Follower.”

The real life version of following and unfollowing would be like befriending someone and letting them live the rest of their lives thinking they are a great friend who is just always busy. The call went straight to voice mail — she must be on a plane. The iMessage was read but 24 hours later still no reply back — it must be her two year old who opened it. The Instragram post shows she was tagged in a photo at the bar — it must be a #lategram. She said she couldn’t go out.

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Don’t be that friend or follower!

Be the loyal follower – follow us until we compromise our blogging integrity by posting lists like 10 Things You Didn’t Know About Bieber or posts filled with quizzes like Why Don’t Your Friends Like You. If you’re on Bloglovin’ follow us if you really like what we have to write. For those that haven’t unfollowed yet — stay cool!

– Emily

Death to One-Upping

Everyone knows that guy, hell everyone was that guy at least once.

Let’s go back to a familiar scene when we were kids. Two boys are out in the grass during recess. The first boy says, “My dad is so strong, he can lift 200 pounds.” The second boy says, “Oh yeah? Well my dad was in the army and went to Vietnam.” The first boy says, “Oh yeah? My dad went to Vietnam too and he was the best shooter in his platoon.” The second boy says, “So! My dad was a sergeant in the army so he told other soldiers what to do!”

Undoubtedly, this conversation is going to end up at – My dad can kick your dad’s ass.

We’d like to think we’ve evolved and matured since our childhood, but have we really? This syndrome of one-uppery continues to plague many well into adulthood. We can be in the office and find ourselves in a verbal joust over who is busier than the other when we clearly know that no one is doing shit. We can be in the gym lifting ten more pounds than our workout partner even though our arms feel like they’re gonna fall off. We can also be in the bar, caught in a bragging competition over who has hooked up with hotter chicks (apparently, everyone bangs Gisele’s and Halle Berry’s). This instinct to mask insecurity through topping others must come to a stop. We’ve got to stop. I’ve got to stop.

As is the case for many of our personal shortcomings, self-awareness is the first step towards recovery. We must be honest about our one-upping tendencies, and it’s our duty to muster up the intestinal fortitude to fight the urge to top the person next to us.

I will leave you with a clip from Portlandia which sums up this message rather brilliantly.

– Chris.

Female Pickup Artists, Huh???

At first, this was unbelievable to me.

I was perusing vice.com when I came across this article titled This Is What a ‘Female Pickup Artist’ Seminar Is Actually Like.

Whoa whoa whoa, stop the clock.

The title stopped me in my tracks. Let’s think about this – female pickup artists. For those that aren’t in the know, the pickup artist, or PUA, is a term that’s been around for decades, spawning communities all over the world of men teaching one another how to meet, attract, and date women. This came to my attention years ago when I read The Game, by Neil Strauss. An entertaining read, the book chronicles Neil’s journey from being a man who had zero skills with women to becoming one of the top PUA’s in the world through his indoctrination into the ways of the pickup community. Personally, I found much of Neil’s views and opinions to be useful about men and women, while scoffing at some of the more cheesy, canned tips he offered.

But female PUAs, really???

The hetero-world of dating centers around the notion that sexual choice lies in the hands of women. This is why clubs allow women to get in for free with minimal waiting while the line is full of dudes, why women’s OKCupid inboxes are full of messages, and why every guy swipes right for every girl on Tinder (or at least I would think so). The thought that women have trouble meeting men is beyond me, and to go even further the fact that female PUAs even exist at all with seminars full of women looking for help is quite confounding.

But then I remembered an important fact – I’m just a man, and men don’t know shit about women.

I never thought women had difficulty meeting men, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. The overall social awkwardness of the general population seems to be growing- we’re so used to substituting Facebook and Instagram Likes for actual face-to-face conversation. It’s no wonder women and men alike are finding it increasingly difficult to meet each other in social settings. Dating isn’t done the way mom and dad used to do it- the manuscript must be revised and rewritten for today’s landscape.

In my opinion, if there’s any benefit to these female pickup artist seminars it’s this- women can learn about themselves. Reading The Game actually brought to light a lot of my own personal tendencies and self-opinions- I believe  the increased level of self-awareness ultimately helped my cause. We are all on the same boat, trying to navigate the sometimes treacherous waters of modern dating. No one is impervious to a little guidance and self-evaluation along the way.

With that said, do your thing ladies. Cheers to female PUAs, I guess.

– Chris.