STEP2 — MOVE IN FOR THE KILL

I slide on over and ask her if she needs another drink. Cliched, but the drunker she is, the more likely it is she’ll overlook my painful short-comings and getting this babe unconscious is a worthwhile goal. I start talking and don’t stop for at least 3 minutes. I observe her reaction.

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She’s still smiling! I think she really likes me! Or maybe her hit of Ecstasy just kicked in. Either way, I proceed with haste to Step 3.

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Hmmm, I’m either boring her senseless (not necessarily a bad thing — senseless is just a few inches from unconscious) or she’s trying to figure out if she can fit me in, between Canadian Idol and CANADA HOCKEY NIGHT. I proceed to Step 3.

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If she reacts like this, I won’t give up hope. It could be a little indigestion, or perhaps the return of an unpleasant memory, or I could be the biggest loser that has ever bought her a drink. I’m a betting man that always loses so let’s go with indigestion. I proceed to Step 3.

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No matter how much vodka and cranberry she may have spilled on her hand, this is a sure sign she’s starting to likes me! bumuming my jockeys aren’t soiled (well, they probably are, but still…Log in to see images!, I proceed to Step 3.

STEP3 — POP THE QUESTION

No, I’m not going to ask her to marry me— although this woman is pretty damn fine, I’m already trying to figure out how many carats I can get with 3 month’s salary. I ask her the question, you know, nudge, nudge, say no more. I ask her if she wants to…

• join me in reciting, “OH!!!!! Canada!”

• make the beast with two backs, one really hairy like a Canadian moose, the other just fine like a shaved Canadian beaver

• be ridden hard and put away in a wet maple syrup puddle

• get busy (in a vain attempt to seem “hip” you may also offer her some “bling-bling”Log in to see images!

• bump uglies until dawn (she’ll figure I’m the ugly one and understand the bumping part)

• Or I just say, “so, you’re from Canada, eh?”

Whether or not I really use any of these lines depends on how drunk I really am. Hopefully, instead I’ll just approach it all simple like and ask her if she’d like to finish her drink while watching the stars from the terrace my room.

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I hate when this happens. I’ve apparently lost all control, whipped it out and wiggled it at her. Haven’t I? Dammit, I have. I punch out like Maverick. I hang my head in shame, take another long, pathetic stare at her body, and proceed to Step 5.

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“GODDAMMIT!” I tell myself, “Tubsweetie, put it away! We’re trying to pick up a woman not ANOTHER restraining order!” I then make a mental note to call my lawyer MercWithMouth and proceed to Step 5.

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Three minutes of conversation and I put her to sleep. Freakin’ terrific. Sleep is not as useful as unconsciousness. I stare for awhile, and give her a sniff. I touch her arm lightly to confirm how soft her skin is and then proceed to Step 5. NOTE: this is usually the outcome MercWithMouth arrives at.

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Is she dialing 911 or canceling dinner with her fiance? Who the hell am I kidding!? When this happens… I RUN!! Never mind proceeding to Step 5, I just RUN!

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Holy crap… I, um, well… I take hold of her hand gently and walk slowly to parking lot that we might take my ‘96 Buck to proceed to Step 4!

STEP 4 — HOURS OF AMAZING PLEASURE AND GRATIFICATION

Wait a minute. Did I really get to Step 4? No way. Way? Unbelieveable. Hmm. I really should take some pics. Merc would never believe me otherwise. I should also tell him that I’m gonna want an advance on that book-deal we were discussing.

STEP 5 — 2MINUTES OF NUMB PLEASURE

Sigh. I’ve been here more than a few times.

I head to my car and drive home.

I log onto 4chan.

I start searching, ‘+camwhore +canada +self-degradation’.

I dump contents of hand lotion tube into right hand.

And then I dump contents of blue balls into stolen hotel handtowel.

Ah well.

Maybe things will go better next time.

Dedicated to Shank Ninja.