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It’s no secret that I’m about as unmanly as they come. I mean, I have the physical strength roughly equal to that of a small to medium-sized child, I don’t know the first thing about cars, and I’m not ashamed in the slightest to admit that I am more likely to go clothes shopping than nearly all the girls I’ve dated combined.

And I watch chick flicks.

There, I said it. I watch them. But not only do I watch them, I like many of them.

Now I realize this fact is not just embarrassing to my man bits, but is also an affront to women everywhere. The film industry—especially in mainstream Hollywood studio productions—is insanely sexist. All you need to do to see this is look at the number of movies with little to no female character development. Or even worse, where the character is there to prop up the male.

I know this!

But I watch them anyway.

What’s more, the reason chick flicks are so widely disliked is because they are often times cliché, formulaic and lacking any mount of depth. Have you ever stopped to wonder why that is? It’s incredibly insulting. The women in my life are strong, intelligent women who are essential to my growth and well being. Am I just lucky to have all the good ones?

Well of course I am. But they’re not the only ones. So why do their movies stoop to such low levels of artistic and intellectual story telling? Simply, I don’t know.

I still watch them.

Of course, if you study these chick flicks, and take them as a dissection of what women are interested in, you’d be left concluding that women only care about romance and tales of love that are steeped in fairly predictable story lines, formulaic constructs, characters who are narrowly developed and endings that are always happy.

Doesn’t change that I’ll sit through one, two even three at a time.

Where I have often drawn umbrage with chick flicks—and where I’ve thought, “I could never write that even if I had a gun to my head—is the mainstay chick flick formula of the lovers parting ways for lack of an ability to recognize and say the one thing that will make everything happy.

We in the audience know what the couple on screen should do. They eventually will say it. But in an attempt to push the plot along, and to create drama, the couple must hem and haw and go through this ridiculous and often times frustrating plot device!

Just tell her you love her! we scream.

Just tell him you’re sorry! we lament.

Why can’t they just see what they need to do?

Film after film after film goes through this very same character arc, despite the fact that at this point, it’s almost laughable to call it a character arc as it’s so over used it reeks of being trite and boring.

Good thing that doesn’t happen in real life!

That’s the problem. Sometimes in life we don’t know what to say. Or how to say it. Or when to say it. And for pride, or stubbornness, or for pain of heart, our judgment becomes so clouded and the pathway so convoluted that we thwart our own efforts to do or say the thing that will make everything right.

And talking about it only makes it worse.

Love, and the resultant heartache and pain it causes, is the most classic of stories. Certainly the most universal. Who among us hasn’t felt pain from the loss of a loved one? Who of us hasn’t suffered the struggle of watching a cherished friend leave our lives for no other reason than we just became so out of sync we no longer recognized each other for who and what they represent in our lives.

Who of us has had to let go.

We all have. And it always hurts.

Unlike movies, we don’t know how the story will end. Without a script, and a series of predictable plot devices, or especially a well-orchestrated musical score to cue subtle emotional changes, we are left not knowing if that thing that should be said will be said.

In real life, the story doesn’t always get to end happily. In real life, people grow apart, and without saying or doing or taking the step that makes the difference, they stay apart.

And I guess that’s what I fear most.

Some people are just too important to let slip away.

But how do you correct it once the slippery slope has taken hold?

Impossible to know. I’m not Tom Hanks. This isn’t When Harry Met Sally. This is real life with real emotions. And the script has certainly not been written yet.

Scratching my head, I can only think, maybe it’s time to whip up some popcorn and ask myself what I’d say if this were a movie and I were a disinterested voyeur. Because as it is, I don’t have the answer. And maybe, just maybe Nora can provide some answers. Let’s hope.

Having a really bad day? Hopefully you’ll find someone who leaves a gem like this in your inbox. Thanks PK.

And now, from my excruciatingly boring desk I bring you:
The Top 10 Reasons that Brady Rocks

10. He has an air mattress and he’s not afraid to use it. Even during earthquakes.

9. He takes words and turns them into something spectacular, thoughtful, and poignant.

8. He has a Beetle. Convertible. and it’s RED.

7. He makes some damn fine kids.

6. Did I mention the air mattress?

5. His eyes and smile can melt frozen butter in .0002 seconds Or at least my heart

4. He is brave

3. He is the mayor of Scratchmyselfotopia

2. He is hilARIOUS beyond all hilarity

1. In a world that lacks a substantial selection of genuinely good people he makes his little niche of planet a truly lucky bunch.

Fully spent and breathless, he rolled over and collapsed with satisfaction. She reached out her hand as they lay in the moment, the force of their breath the only sound in the room.

“Alright, mister,” she finally broke in after a deep exhale, “I gotta get going.” She playfully patted his bum as she stood.

“Yeah, me too,” He said with a pinch of her leg.

“Hey, have you seen my…” she asked as if to herself as she searched the room for scattered items, “…oh, here it is.” She continued on in the task of putting herself back together.

“Oh, right, hey,” he said with a flash of realization, “how much was that sandwich? I need to give you some money.”

“What? That? Oh, don’t even worry about it,” she said absently, consumed by her task at hand.

“No, really. How much?”

“Seriously,” she chuckled lightly, “Don’t even worry about it.”

“You brought me dinner, I owe you, how much?”

“It was nothing. No big deal”

“Come on, I gotta give you something. How much?”

“Well,” she said leaning into him, “I think you more than paid me for a little sandwich.” She gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Ha! You know I did…,” his voice suddenly cut off, “…wait! What?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, it just kinda sounded like…” he paused, she tensed, “Did I just trade sex for a sandwich?”

She forced an uncomfortable laugh as the wheels churned in her head. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“Yeah,” he paused, “you mentioned that.”

“Hm.”

Awkward silence.

EL DORADO, KS—A horrifying scene erupted today after the infamous Twitter “Fail Whale” dropped from the sky and crashed down into this small Kansas town. The 55-foot sperm whale brought the city to a standstill as it demolished houses and tore through neighborhoods. Forty-three people have been reported injured, three fatally.

Mayor Tom McKibban reported the event “tragic” as he worked with city, county and state emergency response crews to maintain order. Residents stood by shocked and visibly shaken as they watched the massive Cetacea flip and flail with its massive tail, leaving a wake of destruction in its path tearing through houses, shops, and buildings, knocking down power lines, and sending cars as far as 30 feet. Witnesses say the large water mammal fought for approximately 75 minutes before it finally gave up and passed away.

“I can truly not believe this,” said lifelong El Dorado resident Trent Dobbler looking at the giant cachalot, “I’d say it’s like something out of a science fiction novel, but I don’t think you could make this stuff up!”

“How could something like this happen?” Asked Hank “The Tank” Wheelwright, who witnessed the whale hurtling landward and making impact near the corner of W Central Ave and Taylor, “I thought it was an alien or something.”

Governor Mark Parkinson however was far more direct in expressing his anger over the event, said the governor, “I am outraged that something like this could happen in any city. I am determined to get to the bottom of this and ensure that those responsible for this tragic event are called to answer for this senseless destruction.”

Investigators are unsure of what caused the breech, but their early indication is that the whale, which is transported in a net around the globe by a collection of carrier pigeons, became loose and eventually fell out of the net when one pigeon lost control of the rope which slid out of its beak. The eventual shift in balance was too much for the other pigeons to recover from causing a chain reaction which left the 45-ton Odontoceti in a free falling dive toward terra firma.

Evan Williams (@ev), CEO of the popular social networking and microblogging site, Twitter, which utilizes the now iconic whale for its system error notification, was only available for comment through his Twitter profile, where he offered this short, multi-tweet statement (original grammar maintained) “the entire twitter fmly is saddddened 2 hear of this trAgic event. our sYmpAthieS go out to the families affected & the entire c0mmMMunityyy” [cont] “we ARE cooperating fullLLLy with invstgtrs to piece together wht happened. beyond that, no further comment aaaaaaaaat this timmMMMe. kthxbye”

Pastor Harvey Redding from the Second Reign Apostolic Church of the Messiah and his parishioners arrived with signs in hand warning that this was a sign that end times were upon us. “Revelations 13 clearly states,” he screamed from his make shift street corner pulpit to all who would listen, “the beast from the sea would make war with the people of God.” He continued, “This beast from the sea is a warning to all the world to repent and give yourselves to Christ. It’s the morally corrupt with their fornications, and their lyings, and their gay marryings that inflict this tragedy upon us. God is warning you to forsake sin.” When asked if he knew of the microblogging site, Twitter, Pastor Redding admitted he had never heard of it, but asked if it was in the Old Testament of the Bible, “because,” he said with a surprise moment of levity, “nobody really reads the Old Testament.”

Michelle Badington, mother of three and stay-at-home-mom who’s home was destroyed by the fighting aquatic beast stated, “I don’t know what a Twitter is, but I sure as hell know what a whale is. AND THAT’S A WHALE! A whale??? Are you kidding me?”

Early reports estimate damages at $15 million while clean up could take up to a year.

The injured have been moved to area hospitals while names of the three deceased are being withheld pending identification and notification of next of kin. They are described as 20-something males not normally seen in these parts. They have jet-black hair which hangs down partially over their faces and were wearing thick-rim glasses and pants that were described as far too tight for human legs to fit into. Their captioned Tee-shirts were unintelligible to witnesses on the scene but assumed they were intended to be funny or slightly humorous in a twisted, unconventional sort of way. One witness also mentioned that they were using hand-held mobile devices at the time of the incident.

Anybody with potential information please contact the El Dorado police department.

Sometimes I don’t feel like my work challenges me. Then I wonder if I really want it to be any different. So I sit. I sit idly dreaming of the time I can go home to basically do the same thing I did all day. The circle is complete.

When life was new

Sometimes new things are awesome. A new car is pretty awesome. So is a fistful of new dollars. New shirts, new flannel sheets, a new pencil eraser? All filled with awesome. New things make life wonderful.

Well, most new things make life wonderful.

Actually, some new things are pretty un-awesome. New cavities are pretty lame. As are new patches of skin on your once fully haired head. Does anybody like new glass shards in their eye? Of course not. New cancers, new unemployment and new kicks in the junksacks? I definitely don’t want a fresh supply of any of that.

But what I find super unawesome is being subjected to new love.

Yuck.

Flying home from my weekend visit with the kids, I had the unfortunate displeasure of sitting across the aisle from a young couple in love. You know the couple: newly together, newly in love, newly married, newly my worst enemies.

It was so cute it made my gag reflex kick in like a Mormon bride on her wedding night. I’m sure it’s documented somewhere, but it’s a known fact that new love has a way of making a newlywed couple think they’re the only people for miles around on a fully packed Southwest flight. They see nobody, hear nothing, and notice not at all that the projectile vomit hurled in their direction is even there, let alone a result of their particular brand of newlywed cuteness.

Between giggles and flirts and a fair amount of jumbo-jet lovin’, they admitted to the woman seated next to them that—and may I say, this wasn’t just a woman seated next to them, this was an excruciatingly gorgeous, female SkyWest pilot deadheading to San Diego; her long blond hair cascaded over her cosmetics model face and down to her uniform that hinted of a body that could make a priest turn dark—that they had only been married six months.

Six months.

Awwwww…so cute.

I remember six months. I remember being in love once. I remember the feeling of every joke being hilarious and every exchange momentous. And important. And meaningful.

What happened to those days?

Sitting on the plane, I couldn’t help but remember the time I was in the exact same position they were. New love, new girl, new flight to a new city for new adventures with an entirely new world of new possibilities. It staggers my now very old mind.

Too many years ago to count, my big bro was getting married. I asked Eventually-to-be-Ex Mrs Portico to join me. She did. We were so young. So in love. So excited. In fact, we were newly engaged as I had asked her to marry me not 5 weeks earlier. Hell, we were so new, we’d only met 6 months before that. Yes, life was definitely new.

So with joy in our hearts, Eventually-to-be-Ex Mrs Portico and I were on a plane making the trip to Las Vegas for the wedding.

We were basking in new love.

Sitting on that Southwest flight we were giddy, cutesy, funny, so full of life and love and spunk. Yeah, that’s right, spunk. At a mere 19 and 22 (22 by a full 2 weeks), she and I thought there was nothing in this world that would stop us. Young, dumb, and full of c…church spirit, our true love and almighty God would endow us with all his greatness and marital majesty. Our lives were new and about to kick some fresh new ass.

Woo fetching hoo!

Seriously—what the hell happened to those times?

The fact is that trip always stands out as one of the times when I can say I was truly happy. So many inside jokes and little quips, quotes, and lines grew out of that trip; lines so pervasive that if I were to say one to her this day she’d know exactly what I was talking about and probably laugh. At the very least smile. We were still using them not long before the separation. For instance, calling her slim and sassy (humorous reference to a cigarette that bore her name and used the line Slim and Sassy as their tag); hairy bum; she’s 3/4ths (her dress size); and the great wearing shorts and basketball shoes for our own wedding debate.

For about five days we had no work, no college classes, no worries and no anything. We were new to each other and everything new was the new excitement of experiencing life as a new couple. It was a magical time.

Much like I’m sure this flight was for that young couple. To look at them I’d be shocked if they were much older than Ex Mrs Portico and I were when we were six months married. And judging by a the brief discussion on home teachers I overheard, and the level of innocence in their exchanges, I’m quite certain they hold the same theological beliefs we did. They—for lack of a better word—are us. We were them.

Now I am me. Ex Mrs Portico is her. And the we of us is a smudge on the window of history.

And sitting here writing these lines, I can honestly say that I can’t see me feeling that way ever again. How does one feel that way again? Can anyone feel that way again?

Maybe, as I’m sure you may be answering my question at this very moment, just maybe we’re not supposed to feel that way again. Maybe the experience and age and transition and evolution of our lives mean we’re in a new position to feel new ways about the new events and circumstances of our aging lives.

Maybe.

One thing’s for sure, that newlywed couple made this newly divorced guy feel awfully old.

And if nothing else, I have definitely found my newest people to dislike.

Many’s the time I sat ensconced on my couch flipping through channels while sitting for what would be the 6th, 7th, 8th straight hour wondering, “why isn’t Casablanca EVER ON TV?”

It has always kind of surprised me. In fact, very few of what are generally considered classic movies are actually aired on tv. Or at least on basic cable. Now Captain Ron I’ve seen dozens of times and I am probably in the 100’s for Roadhouse. But go figure.

Before last night, I had only seen Casablanca once before. Of course, that airing was quite the doozy. It was on Valentine’s Day around 2004. I had heard that the Egyptian theater in Ogden, Utah, was showing it as part of a Valentine’s romantic date night kind of thing. I was stoked and bought tix for Ex Mrs Portico and myself.

I was shocked watching it. The wikipedia page for the movie speaks about it being a movie nobody thought much about. It was “just one of dozens of pictures being churned out by Hollywood every year.” Watching it, it’s hard to believe. It is truly a wonderfully powerful and well-crafted movie.

Of course, the second notable piece of watching that movie that night was that I passed my long-held kidney stone in the Egyptian theater bathroom after the movie let out.

Nice!

The reality still remains, because basic cable never airs these “classic” movies, I have still not seen most of them.

<shame>

This was brought squarely to my embarrassed brain last year when I stumbled upon the AFI’s top 100 movies list (2007). It was almost exactly one year ago today when I posted a simple note to Facebook marking the movies I’ve seen. I of course had 2 hopes in posting the note: first, I wanted to document the list and begin a campaign to actually see them; and second, I wanted to be awesome and start a note that would circle the world and come back to me.

Failed on both fronts.

Oh well. What I can say is that out of the probably 100-125 movies I saw last year, I did increase the “classics” list by 5. Five. Cinco. Fünf. The old five. Five? OMG, FIVE??? I suck.

In fairness to me, the RedBox just doesn’t have these movies in their vending machines. Also, I don’t have NetFlix and despite having the HBO package with roughly 9 different HBO channels, seeing good movies was quite the challenge.

So anyway, how many have you seen? Check out the list and see how you compare.

( ) 1 CITIZEN KANE (1941)
(x) 2 GODFATHER, THE (1972)
(x) 3 CASABLANCA (1942)
( ) 4 RAGING BULL (1980)
(x) 5 SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN (1952)
( ) 6 GONE WITH THE WIND (1939)
( ) 7 LAWRENCE OF ARABIA (1962)
(x) 8 SCHINDLER’S LIST (1993)
( ) 9 VERTIGO (1958)
(x) 10 WIZARD OF OZ, THE (1939)
( ) 11 CITY LIGHTS (1931)
( ) 12 SEARCHERS, THE (1956)
(x) 13 STAR WARS (1977)
( ) 14 PSYCHO (1960)
(x) 15 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968)
( ) 16 SUNSET BLVD. (1950)
(x) 17 GRADUATE, THE (1967)
( ) 18 GENERAL, THE (1927)
( ) 19 ON THE WATERFRONT (1954)
(x) 20 IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946)
( ) 21 CHINATOWN (1974)
( ) 22 SOME LIKE IT HOT (1959)
(x) 23 GRAPES OF WRATH, THE (1940)
(x) 24 E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL (1982)
(x) 25 TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (1962)
First 25 Total: 12

(x) 26 MR. SMITH GOES TO WASHINGTON (1939)
( ) 27 HIGH NOON (1952)
( ) 28 ALL ABOUT EVE (1950)
( ) 29 DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944)
(x) 30 APOCALYPSE NOW (1979)
( ) 31 MALTESE FALCON, THE (1941)
(x) 32 GODFATHER PART II, THE (1974)
(x) 33 ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST (1975)
(x) 34 SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS (1937)
( ) 35 ANNIE HALL (1977)
( ) 36 BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI, THE (1957)
( ) 37 BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES, THE (1946)
( ) 38 TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE, THE (1948)
(x) 39 DR. STRANGELOVE (1964)
(x) 40 SOUND OF MUSIC, THE (1965)
( ) 41 KING KONG (1933)
(x) 42 BONNIE AND CLYDE (1967)
( ) 43 MIDNIGHT COWBOY (1969)
( ) 44 PHILADELPHIA STORY, THE (1940)
(x) 45 SHANE (1953)
( ) 46 IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (1934)
( ) 47 STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, A (1951)
(x) 48 REAR WINDOW (1954)
( ) 49 INTOLERANCE (1916)
(x) 50 LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING, THE (2001)
Second 25 Total: 11

(x) 51 WEST SIDE STORY (1961)
(x) 52 TAXI DRIVER (1976)
(x) 53 DEER HUNTER, THE (1978)
(x) 54 M*A*S*H (1970)
(x) 55 NORTH BY NORTHWEST (1959)
(x) 56 JAWS (1975)
(x) 57 ROCKY (1976)
( ) 58 GOLD RUSH, THE (1925)
( ) 59 NASHVILLE (1975)
( ) 60 DUCK SOUP (1933)
( ) 61 SULLIVAN’S TRAVELS (1941)
(x) 62 AMERICAN GRAFFITI (1973)
( ) 63 CABARET (1972)
( ) 64 NETWORK (1976)
( ) 65 AFRICAN QUEEN, THE (1951)
(x) 66 RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981)
( ) 67 WHO’S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF? (1966)
( ) 68 UNFORGIVEN (1992)
(x) 69 TOOTSIE (1982)
( ) 70 CLOCKWORK ORANGE, A (1971)
(x) 71 SAVING PRIVATE RYAN (1998)
(x) 72 SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, THE (1994)
(x) 73 BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID (1969)
(x) 74 SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, THE (1991)
( ) 75 IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT (1967)
Third 25 Total: 14

(x) 76 FORREST GUMP (1994)
(x) 77 ALL THE PRESIDENT’S MEN (1976)
( ) 78 MODERN TIMES (1936)
( ) 79 WILD BUNCH, THE (1969)
( ) 80 APARTMENT, THE (1960)
( ) 81 SPARTACUS (1960)
( ) 82 SUNRISE (1927)
(x) 83 TITANIC (1997)
(x) 84 EASY RIDER (1969)
( ) 85 NIGHT AT THE OPERA, A (1935)
(x) 86 PLATOON (1986)
(x) 87 12 ANGRY MEN (1957)
(x) 88 BRINGING UP BABY (1938)
(x) 89 SIXTH SENSE, THE (1999)
( ) 90 SWING TIME (1936)
( ) 91 SOPHIE’S CHOICE (1982)
(x) 92 GOODFELLAS (1990)
( ) 93 FRENCH CONNECTION, THE (1971)
(x) 94 PULP FICTION (1994)
( ) 95 LAST PICTURE SHOW, THE (1971)
(x) 96 DO THE RIGHT THING (1989)
(x) 97 BLADE RUNNER (1982)
( ) 98 YANKEE DOODLE DANDY (1942)
(x) 99 TOY STORY (1995)
( ) 100 BEN-HUR (1959)
Fourth 25 Total: 13

Total: 50

Unmotivated

I need motivation.

Something.

Anything.

I feel very uninspired of late. Which is odd seeing my life situation. New things are happening to me constantly. From giant robots in urban windows to befriending a pelican on a pier of massive size, my life is pretty full of “stuff” going on.

There is literally no shortage of material for penning and stories for telling. I feel pretty lucky, actually. All self-deprecation and cheap jokes aside, I’ve always considered myself a homebody of sorts. I lack the requisite energy to really take life by the balls and swing it in the general direction of excitement and grand adventure. I typically am quite content to wear out the cushions on the couch as I bask in the glory of Burt Reynold’s moustache.

But that hasn’t been my life over the last while. I’ve been killing it. Big time. It’s been, as a surfer might put it, epic. I’ve taken a weekend bender to Vegas where I dominated a hill—and a bottle of champagne—then swam in a pool with a giant shark aquarium with my kids; I’ve seen live shows and great bands galore; I’ve seen whales, dolphins, seals and all manner of wildlife; I’ve witnessed the most beautiful sunsets I never thought possible, not once, but a dozen times at least; I went on a quick roadie to Disneyland and followed it up with a tour of the beaches of LA; I watched a game of the World Series in a Yankees bar filled with loud and excited Yankee fans; I lived in a kick ass, top-floor condo in downtown San Diego and roamed the streets at all hours of the night; and that’s just what I can think of off the top of my head.

It hasn’t been all great though. My bike was stolen on my birthday; my car is falling apart, including not passing CA smog; my condo in Salt Lake has been sucking me dry followed by issues with my insurance policy AND getting in trouble for not following proper procedure for renting it—the association may penalize me and my tenants; I live in a room on an airmattress; and I really miss my kids.

But all in all, I’ve met some amazingly cool people who are supportive and constantly willing to show me that there are good people all around us. And I’ve done it all in one of the most beautiful areas of the world.

Just this morning I sat outside my office on a call with my bank and watched as birds flitted about on the branches of the palm trees that stand tall and beautiful while the sun showered me with warmth.

From beginning to end, my life has been pretty good.

I guess I just thought this sort of adventure would lead to creative expression. Maybe heightened output. There are stories all around me. Why hasn’t it led to writing something great? Something at all? Anything?

Maybe it will come.

Maybe not.

But one thing’s for sure, I’m really digging this ride.

Crazy-Hot scale

Brilliant.

One of the biggest errors straight men make in their dating efforts is underestimating the opportunities available at gay bars. Straight men are terrified of gay bars. Why? Because they think gay men will try to hit on them. As if any self-respecting gay man would waste his time on a straight guy. Or be interested. Arrogant much? But women who have gay friends, on the other hand, love it. Most women love gay men. And these women are usually quite attractive and intelligent. And so they’ll spend time at a gay bar, getting comfortable knowing they can spend time with men while avoiding a deluge of never-ending advances straight men subject them to in regular bars. They can let loose.

But the fact is, they still want a man. It becomes an exercise in contradiction as they continually see what they want but can never have. It’s like being offered plates of food they want but can’t eat. So while they on the one hand hang out with their gay friends to enjoy hassle-free time from straight male pursuers, the opposite effect tends to pull quite heavily in increasing their desire for a man in their life. It becomes confusing. Disorienting. And if you’re anything like me, you need all the compromised states of emotion you can get.

Decreased competition. Increased desire. Win win.

So if you’re having trouble meeting girls, try a gay bar. You just might be surprised.

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