Wednesday, January 25, 2012

What Y. S. Rice Looks for in Ladies

Hi again,

Here is the post that I promised was in-bound today. After writing that brief dialogue, I was at a total loss of what to actually write about. I mean, the chief-editor told me to leave technology out of it - which basically means I can't write about a single thing I've been working on for the last few weeks. Unfortunately, HTML coding, python programming, and fixing various hardware malfunctions for my family all count as 'too nerdy' for my boss' tastes.
This is actually how I see the world when I wear my glasses.
When I finished researching how 0.9 repeating is actually equal to 1, I suddenly realised something I could write about! My bitter loneliness.

Now, before I commit myself entirely to the 'lonely nerd who does not have a life' stereotype, I would like to point out that I have in fact had intercourse approximately 4.25*10^2 times, which equates to an average time of 120.41666 hours spent hitting home runs (these statistics do not include my plethora 1st, 2nd, and 3rd base accomplishments). Basically, what I'm saying is that on the one hand I'm sad enough to have calculated these statistics, but on the other hand I'm cool enough to have actually lived these statistics.


For those of you who may no longer think of me as a 'total nerd', but rather a 'total jerkass nerd'; the original title of this piece was going to be "What Y. S. Rice looks for in Love", but that was just ambiguous enough to allow Caowin many opportunities to call me gay.

I assure you, this article goes out to all the classy women out there who want to start a truly meaningful relationship with a self-important vaguely intellectual blogger who you've never met.

If you somehow fit in that category of fictional person, you should also:

Share my Interests:
This one's a bit of a given really. I can't think of a single successful relationship (or cheesy relationship advice column) that hasn't got this. Unfortunately, most of my interests are atypically very guy-centric; however, at least they typically have more female appeal than the 'red-blooded American' genre of man-activities. Also, I'm less likely to be physically capable of raping, beating, or murdering you and hiding the body in Caowin's house - under his bed - than one of those 'athlete' types.
In all honesty, the only thing I hide under Caowin's bed is an old shag rug.
Oh, and my pirate radio broadcaster and non-logging proxy servers.
But, on a serious note, nothing gets me more interested than when a girl expresses genuine interest and awareness of my various hobbies. To me, "Oh, your code is so concise and... clean... and efficient!" is approximately equivalent to those porn-ads that talk about "I'm single and horny and in your local area, big boy". And if you yourself actually participate in any of my hobbies, then can we just cut the chit-chat and get married tomorrow? You can be my 30th level Enchantress any time (no 4th edition-o).

Another good thing would be:

Not Being Squeamish:
Now, I'm not Captain Anarchy myself - few things bug me more than hearing kids (under thirteens, pretty much) swearing. What's more, I don't exactly swear like a character from Pulp Fiction.
I do, however, absolutely love that film, and couldn't ever be with someone who finds the idea of a film with 429 swear words to be repulsive. My thinking is that everything that society at large detests has its place: swearing can be poetic (or hilarious, as in that video above. Seriously, I've watched it twice while writing this article); sexual relations feel good, are healthy, and continue the species; and controversy keeps our minds open and always thinking.

None of that is to say you must agree with me on all controversial issues themselves, but my perfect woman wouldn't shy away from such things. 'Nuff said.

Last, but not least, the perfect gal should be:

Now, this is a tricky thing to really hammer down. My co-writer, who you might know as Caowin (but I know as the guy who has had sex on about 425 fewer occasions than myself) has oft told me about this strange phenomenon known as "The Friend-Zone" - usually in the context of "Ouch Yaya, I just got friendzoned [sic] so hard". Being a huge fan of The Twilight Zone myself, I quickly did my research on the topic. I found, however, that the Friend-Zone is apparently a common and much-feared real world occurance. To save you the trouble I had to go through to find out about it, I'll summarize here:
When a (wo)man likes a hot (wo)man, the easiest way to ask him/her out is usually by becoming his/her friend first, then asking him/her out when the time is 'right'. Unfortunately, this time being 'right' thing usually takes a long time, and by the time the first (wo)man gets round to asking the other out, something bad has happened: the latter (wo)man now sees the former as 'just a friend', and is incapable of seeing their relationship 'going anywhere'. Therefore, they are forever stuck in the Friendship Zone.
Having never been 'Friend-zoned' myself, I have been utterly confused for the longest time - how could this problem ever arise? See an interesting girl, ask her out. Maybe get close to her first. Maybe get rejected. I see no zones, and I only see friendships in which they say yes. Then, the other day it hit me!

Caowin, being a blithering blabber-mouth just loves to blabber and blither to everyone he meets - especially the ones he can (entirely theoretically) sleep with. Therefore, when he meets a girl who isn't right for him but might have still given him the benefit of the doubt, he ruins it by revealing every facet of his insanity. Insanity is good, but when they've seen it all, what's left to keep them there? At that point they must decide whether or not they actually like a mental-conservative-religious-zealot-bigot.

Therefore, I have to admit that I prefer those who court me to be somewhat aloof at first. Obviously, this facade has to go away eventually for a relationship to work, but... If I know you inside and out as a friend, where is my motivation to 'get to know you better'? It's not possible, so why bother.

You've just been friend-zoned by a total geek. How does that make you feel?

Boss: Wow! That was different and punchy! Tell me, do you really believe the things that you've written  here?
YSR: About 66.7% of them. So you really like it?
Boss: God no - I was being sarcastic. I haven't read any of your filth since 2009.
YSR: But... I wasn't blogging in '09.
Boss: Cool. Your cheque's in the mail.
YSR: So I'm finally gonna see some of my money?
Boss: Nope, that was also sarcasm.
YSR: That's not how sarcasm even works...
Boss: Meh. Bye.
YSR: *sigh* Bye.

- Y. S. Rice