The other day I experienced yet another breakthrough in my continuing quest to determine the meaning to Life, the Universe, and Everything. Surely this tiny additional tidbit of knowledge will revolutionize our view of the universe and our place in it.
More importantly though, I also came up with a new strategy for getting chicks (courtesy of a constantly running cranial subroutine). I don't suppose it's really anything new, having been formed from the observations of various acquaintances, but it brings up an interesting scenario nonetheless.
It is a rather common stereotype that women are attracted to men who are spoken for, especially those with the ol' golden shackle. Certainly this is not true of all women and I have never experienced it myself (for obvious reasons), but the anecdotal evidence from numerous separate sources seems to indicate at least partial truth in this. I can't begin to fathom the feminine reasoning or estrogen-induced psychological dynamics that make many women prone to hooking up with married men in spite of every logical reason not to. [As an aside, we could also criticize men's willingness to go along with it and cheat or their indifference to whether or not a woman is in a relationship before hitting on her, but we're not on trial here.]
Therefore, my new strategy is this: get a ring, preferably one that can pass as a wedding ring (CHEAP though) and cruise the clubs. I would no doubt pick up quite a few chicks that way, just by having the ring on. Yessir, since I'm not a druggy, I don't have a criminal record, and I'm not an abusive prick, that's the only chance I've got!
The likely scenario, however, will result in a certain dark comedy. I can see it now: I've had my choice of dozens of chicks and I finally pick a millionaire nympho supermodel who loves me more than life itself. The obstacle to us being together forever, however, is my fictitious wife who is an evil ogre who putrifies eggs by stuffing them between her ample buttcheeks while watching Jerry Springer all day and then hurling them at me. It would go like this:
Hot Chick: OH Jason, you're the only one for me! If only your evil wife hadn't tricked you into signing the prenuptual agreement that stipulated you would have to give up all of your internal organs in the case of divorce!
Me: Oh, Hot Chick, there is a solution! We can be together forever!
Hot Chick: What is it? I would do anything to be with you!
Me: The truth is, I was never married! It was all a clever ruse! Now we can get married!
Hot Chick: You bastard! I hate you! I never want to see you again!
Chicks, eh? Then the word will get out that I'm NOT married and I'd never score again.
The upside is that that would make a really good romantic comedy. Granted, I'd never watch it, but I'd make millions. Of course, they'd probably just cast one of those talent-free goons from "Friends "(probably Matthew Perry) and ruin it.
SIGH. I'll never score.
