Stuff Chicks Dig

If you are a dude and have said to yourself "Man, I wish there was a comprehensive list of things chicks dig," then this is the post for you! Look no further; my name is Cliff; and I know the list.

Many people will tell you that girls love chocolate and flowers and roses and dandelions and rattlesnakes, but what do those clowns really know? I'll tell you what clowns know: clowns know how to make people not like them! Did you know 10 out of 10 historians don't like clowns? I personally don't see what is so unattractive about those clowns. Clowns come to birthday parties and make people laugh -- what is so wrong with that? They drive funny little cars -- where is the atrocity in that? Is it because they look kind of funky? Well guess what, so do babies, old people and middle schoolers; but people don't run around yelling, "OMG, I am afraid of middle schoolers named Chuckie!"

Now that I think about it, being afraid of middle schoolers isn't that crazy a notion; they are unpredictable, exaggeratedly hyper, and haven't learned the social norms of society. Sometimes they can be terrors! I'm pretty sure if I had to choose between spending the day with a clown or a middle schooler, I would choose the clown. Perhaps if a middle schooler were dressed up like a clown, then the general populous would have a reason to drop what they are doing and enter into a state of mass hysteria and panic. But until then, can we just let bygones be bygones (whatever a bygone is)?

Actually didn't Chuckie look like he was about the age of a middle schooler? I know a middle schooler who reminds me of Chuckie -- always running around stabbing people and haunting their dreams. Don't mess with middle schoolers named Chuckie, man. If you do, you are only cruisin' for a bruisin'! Also you're probably cruising for a dagger to the torso.

Why Won't People Just do What I Say?

All I was trying to do was help out a brother in need.  Ya know?  I told this clown standing next to me on the street, "Hey, man, why don't you tie your shoe?  There's a very good chance of somebody stepping on your shoe lace and making you trip."

That guy looked at me and said, "I'm not wearing any shoes, idiot," and then walked off.  Just to teach him a lesson, I stepped on his untied shoelace anyway.  He stumbled to the ground -- emitting that awkward clown laugh the whole way down.  The next thing I knew he was all up in my personal bubble, yelling at me and telling me what a pompous jerk I was.  Actually, he called me a 'porpoise' jerk.  I corrected him, telling him that a porpoise is actually a dolphin, and what he meant to say was 'pompous.'  I then tried to explain to him that it was his own fault for not tying his shoe laces and that he should pay more attention when he is getting dressed.  He then admitted that he was wrong and bent down to tie his shoes.

Another time, I was swimming laps in the Hudson River; some porpoise dolphin comes up beside me and begins taunting me, asking me if I want to race him.  I replied in competitively friendly banter with, "I could beat you with one dorsal fin tied behind my back!"  The dolphin stopped swimming and a tear rolled down his beak.  The mood quickly changed from jest to solemn; something in my comment must have triggered some repressed memory from the dolphin's past.  It was clear that I had offended the dolphin.  I began to tread water, apologized to the dolphin and asked him what was wrong.  He then began to tell me of his rough upbringing as a pup (young dolphin).  "In west Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chillin out, maxin, relaxing all cool.  And all shooting some b-ball outside of school, when a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighborhood.  I got in one lil fight and my mom got scared and said 'You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.'"  As my new dolphin friend, Will, continued to tell me his story, I became overwhelmed with empathy -- you see, I, too, used to play b-ball outside of school.

Will and I never finished that race; instead, we exchanged emails and now have brunch every Thursday morning.  He is a great friend of mine.  Dolphins are loyal and selfless; if only I could get my hands on those hooligans that picked a fight with Will... I'd like to shake flippers with those animals, if you know what I mean.