Hey there good looking, My name's Dan and you must be Rubber Ducky? Cause baby you're the one that makes bath time oh so fun!
So why am I laying on the cheese and shamelessly thrusting my ass out like a cheap backup dancer in a Snoop Dogg video? Well dear my friends, your lovable rascal of a cowboy has been returned to the life of the lone wolf. Me and my lovely lady Abby have called it quits and I find myself once again cast back into the swinging bachelor life.
It was a mutual break up. I wouldn't even really call it a break up more of a transition of sorts. As if we went to the bank and transferred our funds from "couple" to "friends" There was no arguing, spite or hate. No talking behind backs, no burning of pictures or letting loose of large bovines in the others bedroom (Ok so maybe I'm the only one who would do something like that in a bad break up)
Anywhoo, my point is, it was a good break up, we both still really like each other, we just thought it was best for both of us to end it. She no longer saw me as a lover just a really great friend. I know it was no ones fault but I felt like i ruined everything and so I attempted to become emo for a day or so.
4:00 pm (just after break up)
Go to mirror and attempt to pull all my bangs in front of my face for that oh so popular "introverted tortured soul" look. Still lacking the full luxurious head of hair possessed before my surgery, I instead look like a diseased hillbilly version of Gerard Way.
I write some poetry
My life is a barren wasteland of sorrow and remorse,
just like the time I didn't poke with a stick that dead corpse,
Woe, misery and pain are all my life's emphasis,
I'll always remember you're awesome breastasis,
That last one did not follow the rhythm,
Don't try to hold me within your prison,
Just like in Footloose if given the chance,
I'll fight oppression through the powers of dance!
Making a mopey playlist to go along with my new mascara wearing look. I start off strong with Theory of a Deadman's "Hate My Life", Team America's "I'm so Ronery" and Gary Allen's "Life ain't Always Beautiful". But I think I went wrong somewhere between, Hot Action Cop's "Feva for Flava" and Rodney Carrington's "Dear Penis"
Failing miserably at my emo escapade (And also running into more than a few doors due to bangs blocking my vision) I have now switched my post break up tactic to the drown your sorrows with a long neck bottle method. This plan was enacted in two parts. The first involved me and my friend Marc heading out to a pub for some drinks and food. The second I joined my friend Roger and his girlfriend Jennifer at the Demonika Symphony of Horror! Here's a few highlights from those two nights
-Marc about 6 beers in and me 7 girlie drinks downed have started comparing who's more oblivious when it comes to women. We settle on a tie and drink to our continued failures with the opposite sex
-My friend Jeff joins me and Marc at the pub and orders a round of Tequila. Marc forgets he's allergic to tequila, and hilarity ensues ... for me at least, not so sure it was as funny for Marc. Couldn't really ask him as he kept running to the toilet looking like a chipmunk with his vomit filled cheeks
-A text sent just before I laid down my weary head
Knees refuse to function properly. They have started a revolution. my body is at civil war my knees want to enslave blacks and i an lincoln and will free them! Vita la revolution!
-Bouncer comments that it's great having a cowboy attend a goth event, he doesn't need to check my ID when I come back in or frisk me twice. I tell him he can frisk me again if he really wants to
-I'm staring at a raver dancing in the club. Dreads, leather straps, glow sticks, the whole nine yards. He has a plate sized bald spot on the back of his head. I start stalking him with a camera in hopes of getting photographic evidence of this rare beast. But like a neon colored drugged induced bigfoot, the fog and his erratic movements prove too much for my camera and stalker skills.
-Roger's girlfriend wants us to win her a prize in one of the many competitions at the event. Me and Roger wait patiently for one in which can compete. We pass up best breasts, seeing as neither of us has developed them yet, and best booty shake (I wasn't wearing the right jeans for that) But disturbingly without saying a word we both stand up for the best ladies underwear competition. Roger looks to me and laughs that we both made the same joke ...... yeah joke, right, that's why I stood up .....
-A chick dressed as a mummy just stole my chair ..... this will be the perfect ice breaker
Is it true Mummies are missing all their organs? cause I've got one I can donate .... also give me back my chair!
-About halfway through the show I've come to a conclusion. You're not naked as long a you cover up your nipples. No more bringing swimtrunks to the beach for me, I'm just bringing a roll of electrical tape
-I go up on stage for the best dressed competition. My competitors are a zombie, a voodoo priest and a neon colored gay guy in a banana hammock.
-Losing the battle to the zombie I graceful step off stage only to be immediately swarmed by a gaggle of goth and raver chicks. My head swivels about like an owl taking in all the eye candy before me as I'm assailed with varying calls of "Hey cowboy". A soft hand firmly grips mine, turning my attention towards the punk-rockabilly queen to my right.
PunkRockabillyQueen: Who are you?
Me: My names Daniel, I'm the dorky cowboy who thinks he can hang out with the cool kids. And may I ask your name?
PRQ: I'm Steph. What are you doing in a place like this anyways?
Me: I may stick out like a sore thumb but I love this crowd. So many neat and interesting people who aren't afraid to be themselves
Steph: .... You're an oddity and a rare person. I like you. You should hang out with me tonight
Me: Sexcellent! you got yourself a deal
Steph: Can I touch your hat?
Me: Yes you can, he won't bite
-Departing from my new found friends to acquire myself another drink I become distracted as easily as a cat with a laser pointer, by a fellow at the bar asking me about farming. I realize too late just how much time I wasted chatting only to find out that Steph and her entourage have left. At least i found out alternative chicks dig geeky cowboy's ... and like to touch hats
-It's 3 am and me and some friends are walking around the city looking for food. We run into a priest and two stoners getting high outside a pizza place. The place is closed but the priest insists that if Jesus can walk on water he can get us into the restaurant. He scratches at the window weakly like a needy cat begging to be let in. When that doesn't work the old man attempts to hop over the patio fence (And by "attempt" I mean he put one foot on the railing and then started giggling too much to continue the trek)
-We've finally called the night to an end and I'm crashing at Marc's place. I'm supposed to be a special guest in the morning at a comic convention so Marc asks me what time i want to get up.
Me: I'll set my alarm for 7 that way I have time to drive the 40 minutes home, change, grab my art and prints and then come back in time for the show
Marc: You realize it's 6:30 right?
Me: ....... f@#$ .... well, hopefully these clothes won't smell too bad.
And so ended my nights of drunken debauchery. The next day I strolled into the con with nothing but the clothes on my back and a pencil. The Indie comic creators panel I was a guest on opened up with us talking about breeds of cattle, much to our 6 person crowd's delight. I spent the remainder of my day drawing roller derby girls, and explaining the difference between 'cougars' and 'silver foxes' to my fellow geeks. I was the definition of class
And so after a very brief self-pity stage I'm back to my normal self and me and Abby are still great friends.
Since I'm back out on the prowl once again I figured my best course of action is to cast a wide net to find me a better-half. And so I've decided to write a personals ad
Man seeking Woman
5'10, 180 lbs (mostly water weight), pasty white caucasian male, looking for a beautiful, intelligent, fun woman for a relationship. I live with my parents on a farm in the middle of no where. Currently unemployed due to recent head injury. The dent is barely noticeable from the right angles. Not brain damaged .... probably. In my spare time I like to read, write and draw comics and complain about the inaccuracies of the Catwoman movie. If this sounds right for you give me a shout .... you know you waaaaant it! RWAR!!!
That one might need a little work, but I think it's pretty good so far. Now on the other hand I could also tap into a niche dating market (a very large niche mind you) with this ad
Man seeking Woman
178 cm, 180 lbs, caucasian male, looking for strong intelligent female. I'm an only child and an orphan, but I have lots of friends (and more than a few enemies). I'm fluent in parseltongue and have a pet owl who I love and adore. I want someone who see's past my fame. doesn't matter if you're black, white, asian or muggle, I just want someone who loves me for me. If this sounds right for you send owl mail to Number 4, Privet Drive and we'll go for a broom ride
a picture of me at school
So there you have it my dear readers. I hope you enjoyed my romantic endeavors so far, and I will continue to chronicle them for as long as the stories amuse and entertain the masses.
See you all back here
p.s. If you're looking for the rest of the Crisis of Cranium Crackage story as I promised when I posted the first entry, I posted them all up at once on here right before this post, you just have to go back and read them. If you haven't already read them somewhere else I highly recommend reading them