Posts Tagged ‘dating’

There was once a blog. That blogger released too much sensitive info of girls he fucked, so he shut it down. Luckily it was all copied beforehand, so we can all read his writings of genius here at solomonreborn.wordpress.com

This post expresses everything wrong, and by default kinda awesome, about American girls. One of the best posts I have ever read. I included the comments. be sure to read comment #3.

Drive Thru Boyfriends

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Dalrock

Fall 2010 by Solomon II

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, add extra self respect.  Hold the judgment and consequences please.

“I’m sorry; we’re all out of self respect.  Would you like to add a side of rationalization for only $1 more?”

“Yeah.  That’s fine.  Super size it please.”

“Thank you.  Please pull up to the window for your total.”

There she is driving down the road of life at her own pace.  She’s young, independent, beautiful and has all the time in the world.  When she’s horny, she swings into the closest drive thru and places her order.  She does the same thing when she’s sad, lonely, happy, up, down, in, out, excited, needy, afraid, strong, weak, depressed, moody, joyful, exhilarated, stressed, etc. Any and every reason is valid because she’s being “true to herself”. Every three months on average she swings into McFling’s and orders up the best looking or most exciting thing on the menu (because she’s sooo selective).  There’s also a couple of late night snack runs thrown in there for good measure, but not as many as some other girls, so you have no right to judge her.  She’s young and her metabolism is firing on all cylinders, so now is the time for her to gorge herself with no consequences.

At the age of 27, she starts to notice that her steady diet of junk food relationships isn’t as satisfying as it once was.  Sure the bright lights, flashy signs, fast service and cheap satisfaction made for great fun, but now she’s starving for wholesome affection and beginning to show signs of emotional malnutrition.  There has to be something better out there.  Something more substantive.

All of a sudden she decides to make a change.  No more drive thru boyfriends.  Certainly everyone understands that her junk food relationship binge wasn’t her fault since it’s the bulk of what society offers.  It’s our culture.  These greasy high calorie drive thru boyfriend establishments are on every corner, advertised on every channel, glamorized in the media, and no one really told her how bad they could be for her health.  It’s society’s fault.  It’s the franchise’s fault. All the girls she knows are doing it, so how could she possibly be expected to know any better?

So now she wants steak, and by God she’s convinced that she deserves it from a five star restaurant.

She takes a shower hoping the stench of her decade long habit of frequenting McFling’s won’t be as noticeable.  She may not know how to act properly at the new fancy steakhouse she’s going to try tonight, but it’s ok.  Men always give her a pass on her behavior since she’s beautiful and an easy lay adventurous.

When she’s all done getting ready and is confident that she can look and act like the type of girl who has been eating healthy all along, she heads out for the best steakhouse in town.  Why not the best?  She deserves it, and her friend Michelle ate there last week (and she’s totally not even pretty).

With all the undeserved self confidence in the world and an advanced case of juvenile egocentrism, she pulls into the parking lot of the steakhouse.  She notices there are dozens of people standing in line.  She doesn’t understand.  The stupid bitch at the hostess desk asked her if she had a reservation.  A reservation?!  How rude!  She has a vagina and that’s always been sufficient before, so what gives?  It seems the steakhouse is completely booked for months.

Now she’s pissed off.  How could the upscale steakhouse refuse to seat her?  So what if she showed up right at prime dinner time (27 years old o’clock) and demanded the best seat in the house.  She deserves it.  She’s waited so long for it… well, not really, but in theory anyway.  She always knew the steakhouse was there, she just never took the time to plan ahead for reservations.  It’s not her fault.

As she drives away, she realizes she has another problem.  She’s still hungry.  She pulls in to yet another McFling’s, this time disgusted to be there.  But she’s changed, so she decides to try something different.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the steak please.”

“We don’t serve steak.  Show me your tits.”

“I’m not like that anymore.  Steak please.”

“I can offer you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, and pretend to hold the judgment and consequences if you’d like.”

“Steak please.”

“Bitch, would you like me to serve you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, pretend to hold the judgment and consequences, and just *tell you* it’s steak?”

“Steak please.”

“Fine.  Please pull up to the first window.  I’ll have your total and a treat for your hamster.”

This cycle continues until she turns 30 and realizes that she’ll never get in to the steakhouse.  She’s waited much too long to make reservations, so she settles for a Beta male who takes her to Chili’s on 2 for 1 night in his minivan.  Hey, it’s not the steakhouse she deserves, but it’s better than that asshole Solomon II at the drive thru boyfriend joint.  At least Chili’s has real silverware.

That night she stumbles upon a blog with a post entitled “Drive Thru Boyfriends” and gets righteously annoyed.  That’s not her at all.  That was never her intention.  She’s different, special, and unique.  What gives the author the right to assume that he knows her or can determine what she’s been through in her AMAZING life?  He doesn’t know her story.  He doesn’t know her heart.  He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.  He can’t tell her what kind of person she is, or what her fate will be.  She’s different than the rest.  She’s strong, independent and wise beyond her years.

In her rage she hits the road again, confused by what has happened to her and angry that she didn’t get what she deserved out of life.  With her Beta boyfriend wondering where the hell she is, she drives past the steakhouse which is closed for the night.  Blinded by fury and driven by emotion, she decides to make yet another change.  A real and meaningful change this time.  This time she’ll get it right and enjoy what she deserves for being an amazing woman.  Her rationalization hamster helps out with navigation and leads her to a brand new place.  Somewhere she’s never been.  This is it!  This is what she needs.  This time she’s confident she’ll get what she deserves.

And she does.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Steak, please…”

Suggested Reading: Commitment as a Form of Female Investment by Dalrock.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About Solomon II
As iron sharpeneth iron, so one man sharpeneth another. Proverbs 27:17

One blogger likes this post.
Dalrock

16 Responses to Drive Thru Boyfriends

  1.  Penguin says:

    The last couple of posts are great. You’re on fire!

  2.  HappilyMarriedButJustGotLucky says:

    Agree with Penguin. Quite creative and enjoyable!

  3.  Days of Broken Arrows says:

    …and then one day she turned 42. And she realized few people wanted to serve her McBurgers anymore. The steak had never really come her way, but McBurgers always came easy. Now even that was hard to come by. So she went driving into the night until it became morning.

    Sunday morning.

    That’s when she found the mega-church, or the McChurch. She also found McJesus in the McPastor’s McSermons which weren’t really from scripture, but a McReading of the scripture to appeal to the McPeople who filled the McChurch. The Dr. Phil platitudes of the McPreacher allowed her to feel self-righteous and pass judgment on everyone else. Sure, she might have screwed anything that walked, but now she was a McVirgin. Surely, she was a cut above those sinners who didn’t find the McWord, wasn’t she?

    Male attention had ceased, but it came around again when she began posting McPlatitudes on her Facebook page. Things like “If God brings you to it, then God will get you through it.” Now guys were practically high five-ing her online, since that was what they thought they were supposed to do, knowing nothing better in their empty American McLives of football’n’McJesus. And she began responding to people with “God loves you!” Instead of a simple “Bye!” or “Hello!” That got attention. Her breasts were sagging, but her HolyMcSpirit was high. It also made it easier to block out the cries she heard of all the McBabies she never did have (or the ones that wound up washed in pieces in the McDoctor’s drain).

    Like all TRUE stories, this one has a moral.

    Women who use sex in their twenties to get power and fulfillment use religion in their forties when the sex well runs dry. Of course, it’s all McPower — not the real thing, but a low-budget simulation.

  4.  Solomon II says:

    @Days: Beautifully done, and so true. As the son of a Baptist Minister, I can confirm 100%. Church is the last refuge of many a whore. That’s why I laugh when men say they want to go to church to meet a good girl.

    @ Penguin and Happily: Thanks! I really appreciate your feedback.

  5.  finndistan says:

    That was one of the best ways the concept has been written about.

    Btw,

    It is not just wanting to eat steak at a restaurant, it is also wanting the restaurant to pay them for eating the steak; and even pay for the open tabs of the past McFlings.

    And due all the additives (i.e. sodium glutamate, sweeteners, preservatives…) , the taste buds are almost dead, so the steak will never taste like a pumped um McFling with cream on top.

  6.  Solomon II says:

    @finndistan: It’s amazing how this analogy could go on and on forever and still hold true.

  7. Pingback: Commitment as a form of female investment. | Dalrock
  8.  Thag Jones says:

    He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.

    I lol’d. That’s a good one!

  9.  dalrock says:

    “We don’t serve steak. Show me your tits.”

    One of the funniest things I’ve read in a long, long time!

    Thanks for your link back and putting me on your blogroll! I’ve added you to mine as well not so much out of reciprocation, but because I want to be able to read your latest posts easily. I’ve only read your most recent four posts, but I’m hooked.

    One question though, who is Darlock? :)

    [Damn it. Give me a sec.]

  10. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: You Know What the Pattern Is Edition
  11.  Bronckin’ Buckeye says:

    Is this the customer you’re talking about?

    http://40daysandengaged.tumblr.com/

    It’s a must read.

    “Flirting with the laws of attraction. As single (and choosy) girls ——— and —– have decided to put their beliefs in the Law of Attraction to the test to attract the men of their dreams…. We will be wearing engagement rings for 40 days to send signals to the universe that we have found what we are looking for. By doing this we are hoping that in response to those signals we are sending out we will actually receive what we are looking for.
    We will be following some rules through this experiment.
    1. The ring must be worn during every public outting
    2. If a possible “love interest” questions the ring and asks if we are engaged we must answer “Yes, to myself.”
    3. No dating (or similar extra curricular activities) during the 40 day period.
    4. We must go “out” and socialize at least once per weekend
    *Rules are subject to change at our discretion*”

    [S2 Says: Christ, man. Women are fucking delusional. I should quit picking on them and start a foundation or something.]

  12.  Squared says:

    Hey Solomon, just found your blog earlier today. I’ve gone back in your archives and have read about a dozen of your posts already, and I find myself short of superlatives. Absolutely brilliant stuff all around. You definitely have what it takes to become the new king of this part of the blogosphere.

    I’ll be checking this one regularly, keep it up!

  13.  Steve says:

    Funny shit bro.

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Subway Encounters Part 1

Posted: July 15, 2011 in Random
Tags: , , , , , ,

I’m a friendly guy. I meet people where ever I go. Living in NYC I’ve had met some amazing people and figured I’d share.

Perhaps I’m just aware of what and who is around me and I like talking, or perhaps I’m just a creep. Either way, it certainly doesn’t hurt to know some great people. At the very least, it gives me interesting stories.

A few months ago, while working in DUMBO – which for those of you who aren’t aware, is where the real cool people hide out,  I used to take the same train every day. I always took the late train. You kow the one where everyone looks hungover and guilty they aren’t in their office and it’s 10am…

Anyway, I saw this cute short girl a bunch of times, but never said anything. I guess I wasn’t in a talkative mood during the winter. Well one day I did approach her and we chatted a bit. I asked her for coffee but she said she was busy that night, and we never did meet up.

Maybe she isn’t a drinker.

She did find me on Twitter however. Stalker girl. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Anyhow I stumbled across her blog and from there to this video of her doing standup comedy.

Probably from the top ten best standup videos I’ve ever seen, and I normally HATE  standup comedy.

Oh, and Marina, my offer for coffee still stands.

I was recently thinking about how cell phones, texting and technology in general has cheapened our existence, lessened the importance of a gesture, ruined the meaning of romance. In contrast to the world of film, where every action must be properly blocked, every word understoood, listened to, and respected. Evey moment of silence valued, every second of utmost importance. Every element of your surrounding set up to make the most of that moment in time, preserving it forever on film.

The scene is set in rural America somewhere. The year is 1979. The set lit with a musty afternoon light. A young college student returns home for a bit of R&R after the death of his long time girlfriend Emily. He was a quarterback, she, a cheerleader. He walks into the room, drops his duffelbag on his bed. A poster of Farah Fawcett hangs on the wall. He turns to peer out the window, at the children playing innocently up the road, noticing the simplicity of their world, wishing things could be different, when he notices a picture on his dresser. Brushing off the dust, it’s a picture of him and Emily. It was right after they met, in senior year of high school. They’d had a fight, each said hurtful things, she finally storming out in tears. Realizing the stupidity of their argument he’d asked her roommate what her favorite flowers were, gone to her house, gotten past her Dad, and given her the flowers. She threw them on the floor chasing him out of the house. Before she slammed the door on him, he apologized, told her he loved her and if she can get past their differences, she should meet him a the Shane O’Leary Memorial Field behind their school the next evening at 7, otherwise she should never see him again.

She showed up.

Today, in 2011, that scene would’ve been interrupted with some annoying sorority friend of hers telling her what to do via text. Even worse, it couldn’t have happened, because nothing is certain. Everything would’ve been arranged through texting, and either party could’ve do continue

Came across this on a blog. I couldn’t agree more.

A Proposal: Let’s Stop Making ‘Wedding’ One of Life’s Key Check Marks.

by Joy Engel on April 27, 2011

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you that I’m officially interested in the Royal Wedding.

I tried to keep the cynicism alive, I really did. But it’s hard to be anti-Royal Wedding while also being friends with Chiara and communicating daily with a colleague in London. And once I realized that being interested in the Royal Wedding essentially means day drinking and talking about fancy hats (two of my favorite pastimes), I was all on board.

Like all short-lived obsessions, I’ve thrown myself into this. I watched the Lifetime movie, I read some articles about their history and crowned myself an expert on Wills and Kate. I think they’re nice. I think they actually love each other. I think she has glorious hair. And that’s a lot for me to think about a couple I will never actually meet. Let’s have some more champagne.

My wedding enthusiasm is (more…)

Here’s an article I ran into in today’s edition of the NYtimes…eerily similar to the idea of paying the Shadchan 2k for matchmaking…


I was in the cafe at Borders last month when a homeless man asked to sit next to me. He cast several glances my way before offering me two sandwiches from his plastic Conway bag. If I hadn’t already had dinner plans, I might have taken him up on his tuna fish.

After an exhausting decade of dating in New York, I was grateful for any offer that came my way. My once lofty list of must-haves had been whittled down to: “clean; ability to hold conversation a plus.” Once I realized the man was hitting on me (either that, or he thought I was also homeless, which, being between apartments, I technically was), I, too, sized him up. He had a good frame under the layers of coats, and after a shave, a shower and some laundered clothes, he could pass for a handsomer Quentin Tarantino. (more…)

This is the perspective of a modern orthodox friend of mine on the issue.
“The Frummy Who Finagled.”
I have firmly held the belief throughout my life that Judaism allows men and women to be able to be in contact with each other. The Torah, though it is male-dominated due to its writing in a time when the world was male-dominated, still has encounters in which unmarried, single man has spoken to and been attracted to unmarried woman, and, though at times it has had negative connotations, (like Dina- she may have flirted a little much with a prince. Bad idea Dina. You never flirt with an entitled teenager) the fact is that male and female conversation is quite common in the Bible, and in no instances does the Bible ban such encounter.
This disclaimer brings me to a CalmKallahs topic in which a Beis Yaakov girl, KEEP READING THERE’S MOAR!

So there’s this girl who wrote into the forum known as CalmKallahs.com completely freaking out. She posted there the following:

“k-i am your typical frum girl in shidduchim-learning guys… i am freaking out and dont know what to do with myself… to make a long story short- i met a guy who i cannot marry- for a lot of reasons-but we liked each other so much and ended up talking, eventually meeting and got physical and recently we had sex. i am flipping out. i never talked to a guy b4 except on dates and dont no what to do…. will i still be able to marry a frum learning boy? am i ruined forever? in my heart i am still a frum bais yaakov girleven tho i know i messed up big time and have not told anyone about this and cant imagine doing so- no one would ever believe it so dont tell me to tell my parents. please help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel so lost and hopeless!!!”

Let me preface by saying I completely understand the world in which she comes from. I came from there too. So it’s not her I think is amazingly lost, but her world. (And my past?)

It’s sad that a community exists that has such issues. A girl kKEEP READING THERE’S MOAR!

People are. (They make something of themselves.) People aren’t. (They don’t) People are and say they aren’t. The worst kind are the ones who aren’t, but think they are. They’ve always existed. We know we’re in real trouble when we, as a society of respectable people, give them credibility.

A man used to go to university, get a job, marry his highschool sweetheart, raise a family and die a respected and upstanding citizen. Or a feared gangster. Whichever way you have it. He accomplished fame or achieved notoriety.

Came the new millenium, along with it came smart phones, Facebook, Twitter blogs, and texting vs. talking. Heck, there’s even sexting. This changed the way we think, act and dress. And I’d be hard pressed to explain why.

We’ve become a People- and I capitalize it because we’ve almost changed ourselves as a species- who feel like we are Somebodies (capital to denote extreme and unwarranted sense of self importance), because we’re more proficient with technology than the previous generation. Suddenly every kid straight out of college has “contacts” through extensive “social networking.” That leads some of them to believe they are artists  “making music.”  In the 90’s if you were someone who’s hit the big 3-0 with less than 10k in the bank and spent your day attempting to compose music, people told you to get a real job. Today you have a website and a bicycle along with a mac (and  skinny jeans, beard and ponytail) and you can call yourself whatever you want. Talent agent. Producer.  Businessman. Whatever.

We’ve techno-morphed into a People who don’t have the balls to make anything of ourselves. We simply are a People of who aren’t but think they are. The sad part is we know it. And we’re all to blame for it.

And the results can be- how shall I put it- odd. Disconcerting. Tragically comical. Just look at Dumbo. Or any other extremely artsy place. Everyone there has a business selling random crap that noone will ever want or need, let alone be able to identify. And the store and shop owners are never in their always empty stores.

Now I’m all for dreams and going for what you want out of life, but I sure hope that involves more than pretending to be cultured because you sell environmentally responsible…stuff.

And you aren’t a “small business owner” because you re-brand Grandma’s panties as vintage lingerie.

Besides, what ever happened to some good food? I understand the need for replacing greasy diners, but what’s wrong with a good old Chipotle’s? Why must every store sell organic whole wheat sandwiches with strange unrecognizable beverages to boot? Are we trying to be upscale? Is it the need to purchase the unrecognizable label that drives us to avoid good ol’ coke? Or perhaps drinking Perrier is no longer cultured enough? Too crass and un-artsy.

Getting back on topic, I don’t think this sad result of what seems to be an over involvement of technology in our already egotistical lives is the worst thing to have happened to our society, or lack thereof, because it allowed people to break the notion that success wears a suit and tie and works in a high-rise building in Manhattan. It allowed for true creativity to rise. Maybe.

Reposted from In My Humble Jewish Opinion, a dead or sleeping blog.

Charedim try to “dance at all parties” by making sex completely taboo, yet fearing it looms around every corner.

This past week’s Chinuch Roundtable in the Yated made me kind of upset.
The question came from a parent who has two teenaged daughters and an 8-year-old son. They live near a frum drug rehab center. The residents there are in their 20s, have gone off the derech, many come from rabbinical households or yichus, and are “hungry for a home. “

She asks whether she should worry about the influence that these kids will have on her children.
“I would like to know your feelings regarding exposing children to these types of boys and their sometimes off-color comments.” In other words, do the benefits of such a mitzvah outweigh the risks?

In my opinion, she answered her own question when she ended her letter with the following, in parenthesis for some odd reason, “In the last few years, some of these boys have become Shomer Shabbos. One went to Eretz Yisrael and one even married a frum girl.”

The rabbis on the panel were faced with a tough question. Many of them wrote that they asked their own rabbonim to get their thoughts on the matter.

What surprised me was the number of rabbis who chose to focus on the males in their 20’s in the presence of teenaged girls. It’s not about the drugs. It’s not about the off-color comments. It’s not about the 8-year-old getting funny ideas in his head. No. It’s about the chance that one of these guys would hit on the teenagers.

Notice that the writer didn’t mention anything of that nature happening over the past few years. I think these guys know that if they were to do anything inappropriate, they wouldn’t be allowed back there. Thus, had they attempted to hit on the daughters, the writer would no longer have this question.

Clearly, these young men value these meals, and are grateful to be invited to a warm, welcoming frum home, and they are willing do what it takes to maintain a good rapport with this family.

I have a lot of respect for this family for giving these guys something that they perhaps lacked throughout their teen years. A warm, welcoming home. We don’t know for sure, but I’d venture to say that this family had a share in the other young men’s successes.

The rabbis go so far as to say even if these guys were bachurim in a yeshiva, they don’t belong in a home with teenaged daughters.

This attitude only allows me to conclude one thing. These rabbonim seem to think that every man is a horny animal and every woman is a sex object.

I have a brother 3 1/2 years my senior. Does that mean he should never have any friends over? Do these rabbis think that we’ll be playing footsie under the table since he’s a guy and I’m a girl?! Is every guy that horny?

A healthy ta’avas nashim is necessary for the functioning of any male in society.
In other words, yes, men want to have sex. That is how Hashem created them.

Nonetheless, this doesn’t mean that every guy is a sack of raging hormones, and every girl is a sex object. There is more to both sexes than, well, sex.

One rav wrote, “Even if these bochurim were the best bochurim in Lakewood, they should never be invited to a home that has older daughters.” (If “older” is 19+ and they are seeking a learning guy — well, G-d forbid a shidduch come out of this and prevent the two of them from experiencing the sometimes painful shidduch system! That would be just tragic, wouldn’t it — Sorry, I digressed. Couldn’t help it.)

Clearly, the other very important issue at hand, which I believe is what the letter-writer was really asking, is whether these guys who “fell into the wrong crowd” and throw in an off-color comment once in a while, put the children at risk. That is for another day, perhaps.

My thoughts:

She’s a little bit all over the place but what I want to point out are the issue of frum people- not all of them- focusing on things for the stigma associated with it rather than the actual problem.

The other thing is about the shidduch system- why indeed are they so afraid of young people meeting in a healthy environment?

As for guys being a raging sack of hormones- we definitely are, but that doesn’t mean every girl is a sex object. That’s almost as much up to the way the girl puts out, as it is up to the way the guy treats a girl.

The last point is more a comment on the way the post, or the question in the newspaper was written. And I quote from the blog’s author “In other words, do the benefits of such a mitzvah outweigh the risks?”  It makes people with issues into cases. Now, perhaps being on drugs warrants being termed a “case” but something tells me their being called a case arose from their not being religious, not the fact that they may have been crackheads.

Now I think I’m all over the place too. Oh well.

"Hem Rotzim V'anu Ro'im". Too funny not to put in here even though it's completely irrelevant.

So much for the age gap being the source of “The Shidduch Crisis.” He’s done more for the crisis than anyone. It’s called having multiple girlfriends. This way no one gets left out. Just make sure both girls know about the other one. Otherwise it can get messy.

There a website that’s kind of an online dating service for yeshivish people, but they’ve got some crazy stuff in their about page.

Here’s what I would love to write to them:

Hey, it’s an awesome service you guys are providing. I mean, I get it. Ad sense is powerful. But you’re feeding into a community that’s very, very sick. “We do not post open pictures or inappropriate articles; there is no chat or direct emailing between singles; and we are very careful about maintaining the privacy and dignity of every single on our database.”

Damn! And you guys complain about a shidduch crisis. No shit! Guys, get with the program, welcome to 2010. And no, God doesn’t give a shit if a guy so much as LOOKS  at a girl. And if you think he does….well consider yourself sick too.

Sincerely,

Former member of the cult called Yeshivish Judaism.

Tho these guys are seriously fucked up.

“There’s no internet here…and this way its Kosher, al pi taharas hkodesh (according to the pure and holy path) ….(in response to why skype won’t work) you’re going to be in front of your computer, you can go onsite, and look at any www site(GASP!)

that’s all you can do there’s no Chashah (worry) of anything…”

Jesus. Christ. Imagine that. Someone might actually log onto facebook or watch some porn…or the worst of all…YouTube!

So these guys have created video conferencing, or seem to think they have, in order to avoid having young prospective mates drive out unnecessarily for miles to meet up. This way they can meet online, and decide if they want to meet in person. Talk about awkward. It kind of tops off what was already an awkward mating system. It sure isn’t dating.

After seeing this video, I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or vomit. Or maybe all 3. It’s both tragic and funny (as in laugh-at, not laugh-with). Does anyone else find this even remotely the work of sane people?

…and of course the opening was covered by the local blog/paper/news service (?) .