The World Is My Oyster & I Want to Shuck It (with or without Anthony Michael Hall)

When faced with a hook up (or break up for that matter) back in High School or prior to, wasn’t it mostly what your friends thought that mattered? I consider myself still an Adult in Training for the most part so a great deal of that mentality still blossoms in my brain - but there’s a wee little group of cranial caterwaulers screaming to high hell about both beings needing to end up a little better as a result of one another and blah, blah, blah. Can’t deny them I suppose, but now that I’m “suddenly single” for the most part, I want to lash out and act a fool (which I don’t mind saying I have plenty of experience doing) and regain some misplaced youth somewhere along the way. So how many of the rules have changed since I was last in the game? Is my cue stick still able to perform on the hole?

Back in my formative years of the female frame, long before I knew that a woman had more to offer than confidence cuddles, pseudo-sexual esteem and bed head; it was all about making my friends jealous at any cost. The Dark Pig will tell you that I took beauty over brains more often than not, but the truth is that we all took what we could as it became available (but if she was a stunner by some dumb luck, the boys would stew like beef in a broth of hot hormones - no matter how uninformed she was). Now days, if I were to parade some bimbo out in public in front of my friends they’d not only lash her with their wit but they’d surely chastise me for having subjected them to her inane babble. Not that pretty girls can’t be smart, in fact that’s a statistic that’s thankfully changed for the better from what I gather, but you still have to admit that bubble babes are still out there just waiting to make a nice guy look like an idiot in front of his friends.

The gal pals of some of my buddies are already trying to set me up with their single friends if you can believe it. I’m fresh out of the fryer; the last thing you should do is stick me in your mouth right away. Thankfully my friends are deflecting most attempts but I’m sure one will slip under their radar at some point which will undoubtedly make me look the greasy fool. I’m certainly flattered by the attention but let me drip dry a little before covering me in condiments.

Maybe this is the time to make a woman like the boys did in “Weird Science”, but with less pubic hair than Kelly LeBrock (unless she’ll allow me to clean my sink with her pelvis) and more brains (she did marry Steven Segal, after all). The Pig and I will collect over a bottle of rum and try to make a woman. We’ll wear bras on our honey heads, listen to some “Oingo Boingo” and party like its 1985.

... and yeah I know I'll "never make supervisor with that attitude".

iPod played "Oingo Boingo - Weird Science" while posting