How to: go on a date.
A date with yourself that is.
First off, you put on your best pajam-jams and head south to Beautiful Lake Ontario. You crank Death Cab's "you can play these songs with chords" album because you are solo and no one will scream, "You emo-wannabe!" from the passenger side in fury.
Then, You enter Soiux Lookout, a decent "Pussy Point" for all people under the age of 18, but vow to make the best of the lookout since you have been looking forward to this date all day.
You look around. Everyone is with someone. Lovers on rocks and picnic benches are holding hands, sipping the nations pride, Tim Hortons. Even apathetic Teens with skulls on their shirts are flirting like crazy in front of you. (in this case flirting is strong hand smacks across the chest and screams of "ow JASON!") This doesn't bother you because you have a skull shirt of your own and getting bruises on a date isn't your cup of tea.
So you sit on a picnic bench and stare at the water. You think of all these picturisque words you could use to describe it but you are pretty sure one Mr. Bird will hassle you for incorrect use. SO you decide on wicked...and move on.
20 minutes have passed. Time for cigarette two: The lovers are now all looking at you and probably whisphering, "Why is she here alone?" and "I bet she doesn't have a skull t-shirt like this." You decide that its time to shake up your date with yourself, and start looking for canadian geese.
You spot them: roughly 15 of them. Without thinking you hop off the picnic bench and chase after them, avoiding geese poo the whole way. They fly off into the lake and you applaude yourself for successfully breaking up geese dinner time. Now everyone is looking at you even more intently. You weren't just the girl who was at the lake alone. You have become the mentally challenged smoker who chases geese alone.
It is now raining. All the lovers are pouring back into their respected lexuses and your cigarette is getting soggy. You are furious that the date ended early. Also, chasing after the geese has sprained your ankle slightly.
Getting back into your car, you think, WE will have to do this again next wednesday.
I hope I call.
First off, you put on your best pajam-jams and head south to Beautiful Lake Ontario. You crank Death Cab's "you can play these songs with chords" album because you are solo and no one will scream, "You emo-wannabe!" from the passenger side in fury.
Then, You enter Soiux Lookout, a decent "Pussy Point" for all people under the age of 18, but vow to make the best of the lookout since you have been looking forward to this date all day.
You look around. Everyone is with someone. Lovers on rocks and picnic benches are holding hands, sipping the nations pride, Tim Hortons. Even apathetic Teens with skulls on their shirts are flirting like crazy in front of you. (in this case flirting is strong hand smacks across the chest and screams of "ow JASON!") This doesn't bother you because you have a skull shirt of your own and getting bruises on a date isn't your cup of tea.
So you sit on a picnic bench and stare at the water. You think of all these picturisque words you could use to describe it but you are pretty sure one Mr. Bird will hassle you for incorrect use. SO you decide on wicked...and move on.
20 minutes have passed. Time for cigarette two: The lovers are now all looking at you and probably whisphering, "Why is she here alone?" and "I bet she doesn't have a skull t-shirt like this." You decide that its time to shake up your date with yourself, and start looking for canadian geese.
You spot them: roughly 15 of them. Without thinking you hop off the picnic bench and chase after them, avoiding geese poo the whole way. They fly off into the lake and you applaude yourself for successfully breaking up geese dinner time. Now everyone is looking at you even more intently. You weren't just the girl who was at the lake alone. You have become the mentally challenged smoker who chases geese alone.
It is now raining. All the lovers are pouring back into their respected lexuses and your cigarette is getting soggy. You are furious that the date ended early. Also, chasing after the geese has sprained your ankle slightly.
Getting back into your car, you think, WE will have to do this again next wednesday.
I hope I call.
posted by PS at
1:31 PM
4 Comments:
noone loves scutt like scutt.
This is purely a mask for my apparent single-ness. It's sad really.
Dating is for losers anyways! hah Want to go on a date? hah
I don't date emo guys.
or robots...
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