December 21st, 2009 Edition
Dear Max,
I’m a blogger – I won’t say I’m famous, but do I get a lot of hits on my website – and lately women have been sending me marriage proposals via email after I post a blog they like. Now, as a single guy, I’m flattered…but also curious. Do you think they mean it? I know they don’t mean “let’s get married tomorrow” but should I be considering asking these girls out?
- Hitting on the Hits
Dear HOTH:
Welcome to the club, pal. It’s nice here, huh? Forget Taylor Lautner – nothing stirs up the ladies like writing a popular blog. If I had a piece of cheese for every furry female who wanted to put a ring on this claw, I’d be set for life.
It’s flattering to get proposals, my friend. I’m sure you’ve heard from more than one admirer who wants to rub your belly exclusively. (Okay, maybe I’m projecting a little here.)
I’m sure at least a few of these ladies seem intriguing. (Like me, you’re probably sniffing a “but” coming up.)
But it’s a bad idea. Here’s why:
As soon as social media became universally popular, women suddenly became incredibly well-versed in Photoshop. Most guys don’t care to finesse their pictures any more than they care to clean their paws after tearing up the neighbors’ garden. But many women spend hours on hair and makeup before even taking a picture, much less the lengthy “post-production” process.
Suffice it to say: The would-be bride who appears to be a dead ringer for Blake Lively might, in person, turn out to look like Robert Blake.
Spend a little less time on your blog, get out, and socialize. Your winning personality will be just as genuine in person as it is on your website, and your potential partners will be much more genuine.
Dear Max,
What are you hoping for for Xmas and what are you getting your owner? (It’s OK to reply; she doesn’t read your website.)
- OWSR
Dear OWSR:
She doesn’t read my site? Say it’s not true!
My mommy is proud of everything I do, from my advice column…to my 8-Track collection (I really do think they’ll make a comeback)… to the 750 hours I’ve logged toward my pilot’s license… to my delicious Spanakopita recipe… to me tearing up her new curtains.
Okay, so maybe she’s not proud of everything I do. But hey, she’s aware.
What do I want for Christmas? Good question. I probably could use some more entertainment options, since that YouTube video of the cat getting caught on the ceiling fan is finally starting get old.
Call me corny, but I have everything I need. I have a wonderful Mommy who loves me so much she lets me continue to give advice to wonderful people like you, even when the advice occasionally turns out wrong. (In retrospect, “eat all the asbestos you can find” might have been poorly considered. I may have been hungry when I wrote that.)
What will I give Mommy? Exactly what she wants: Complete loyalty, unrelenting adoration, 4.5 carat white diamond earrings, and many nights of cuddling.
Or at least three of the four.
Dear Max,
Why is it that every holiday season I can count on at least two of my exes suddenly crawling out from under their rock to “check in?”
- Holiday Love Skeptic
Dear Skeptic:
This could be entirely coincidental. The holiday season is when everyone finally gets around to “checking in.”
You get Christmas cards from people you never speak with. You get Christmas cards from people you forgot existed. You get Christmas cards from people you thought were long dead. And it occurs to you that the reason you’re not close to these people is they keep forgetting you’re Jewish.
(That was just an example, mind you – I’m not Jewish. Mommy says I’m Chinese. But I’m not sure what holidays they celebrate over there. I’m guessing I Ching Eve, and maybe Wu-Tang Day.)
You know the deal here. This time of the year brings everything you have – and everything you don’t have – into high relief.
If you love whom you’re with, you love that person even more right now. But if you have some concerns, you’re even more concerned right now. For some people, it’s the most wonderful and romantic time of the year! For others, it’s the time when there’s a big spike in breakups…and suicides.
Well, that got dark, fast. Let’s lighten up a little shall we? Now, you said these exes are “crawling out from under their rocks.” I’m guessing that means you’re not interested. But most things I find under rocks are things I buried there in the first place because I wanted to find them later so it gets a little confusing. Still, even if you think they should turn around and crawl right back under those rocks, try to be gracious. Because the truth is, you should just be flattered. To these exes, you might be the one that got away…
Dear Max,
What is the proper etiquette when you step onto an elevator and you are assaulted by bad cologne or perfume? I’m talking a “you-can-barely-breathe-level” assault?
– Why Bathe In Your Nasty Cologne
Dear Why Bathe:
It was “Why Bathe,” right? Because we are in solidarity on that idea, my friend. Who wants to bathe?!?! I keep giving Mommy the same “why bathe” line, but she’s awfully insistent on it. And she’s bigger than me.
Personally, I think I smell wonderful all the time, but I might be the wrong critter to ask – I find that “freshly covered in mud” scent far more appealing than, say, potpourri.
But back to your etiquette question. Sure, we’ve all been in enclosed spaces with fragrance freaks, who not only pour it on heavy but always choose something gruesome, like “Old Spice” or “Axe Body Spray” or “Dropkick by Steven Seagal.”
As bad as that is, it could be worse: We know these people have no common sense and smell artificially awful. Imagine how bad they smell for real. Do you really want to experience that bicycle messenger’s actual scent?
Resist the temptation to ask your fellow vertical traveler whether the CIA has formally classified his body spray as an airborne toxin. If he’s clueless enough not to know what he smells like, he also might be seconds away from having to yell, “Don’t tase me, bro!”
So what should you do? Take the stairs. You have to work off those holiday pounds somehow, and your expanded lung capacity will come in handy next time you have to take the elevator.
