Chronic Nice Guy

In addition to sharing unsolicited help targeted towards women, I'm offering pointers to my male readers as well.

First up: Relieving Chronic Nice Guy Syndrome

Have a friend who is simply too nice to girls? Is he average in appearance and particularly awkward around women? Does he constantly sulk in self pity? Well, if so, we have a serious case of Chronic Nice Guy Syndrome to address. Typically, a man suffering from CNGS rarely dates and often times lags behind his friends when picking up girls. He tries, unsuccessfully, to bring these unknowing broads back to his home, which most times is far nicer than his confidants, but fails miserably and becomes the laughingstock of his buddies. A man suffering from CNGS tries hard to maintain a certain physique to compete with his friends, but is mostly left unsatisfied with lagging results, usually triggered by mild depression and a mundane desk job.

What you don't realize is that these men are prime husband material. They literally give into whatever their woman desires. Chronic Nice Guys rarely feed the fire during fights. With that said, the women who end up dating "nice guys" wear the pants in the relationship and control many aspects of their rather normal lifestyle. Literally, the only type of woman who's drawn to these men are those on a severe and sometimes unexplainable power trip to control EVERY ASPECT of that poor sap's life.

How can a man suffering from this pathetic illness relieve himself of such? No matter how kind and caring his mother taught him to treat a woman, forget everything. Girls, for whatever reason, love a chase. They desire someone with attitude and an "IDGAF" mentality. Inevitably, it destroys a woman's confidence and self-respect, but just like these trifling hoes, a man with CNGS has a lesson to learn. Finding a respectable balance between both opposite ends of the male dating spectrum is key. Adopt the "IDGAF" mentality when deciding between certain critical decisions, like where to eat and what movie to see. It shouldn't always be the girlfriend's choice. Don't come on too strong at bars: give a girl her space, buy her a drink, partake in small talk, then go find another broad to mirror the gesture. It will make Girl #1 jealous in no time.

Remember, when correcting CNGS, one must find harmony between his natural demeanor and that of the douchebag who picked on him in high school. When left untreated, CNGS may cause extra-marital affairs... their wives will literally find any guy remotely interesting to fuck, because their husbands are simply too boring to bear. On the flip side, men with an "IDGAF" mentality will break-up a similar marriage by cheating on his wife multiple times because he never truly cared for anyone but himself.

See... Balance.

Rarely, Chronic Nice Guy Syndrome may also lead to a long life of lonely misery. Men who are often unwilling to change find themselves in their mid-forties with an average job dodging gay rumors. Who the fuck wants that?

In closing, to all you nice guys longing for a meaningful relationship with the opposite sex: man up. Change your technique, adopt an "IDGAF" mentality during necessary times, start playing the field, and avoid women already in a relationship. I don't know what it is about "nice guys," but they're always targeting women who clearly have a boyfriend or a specified fuck buddy. Good luck, guys!

-dylsny

How to Catch a Homo

In reference to my last blog, how may one determine whether her boyfriend fancies D instead of V?

• Does your boyfriend take more time than you to get ready? (Really, with buzz cuts and no makeup to be worn, there's NO excuse)
• Does your boyfriend have trouble getting it up and keeping it up?
• Does he seem to space out during sex? i.e. He's thinking about other things... 8===)
• Have you ever caught him checking out other men?
• Have your girlfriends and gay BFFs ever confronted you about the possibility your boyfriend enjoys the company of other raging hard-ons besides his own?
• Is his phone typically off limits? (Does he have something to hide?)
• Does he prefer to watch HGTV over ESPN?
• Does he have an unexplainably strange relationship with a known or assumed homosexual?

*Overcompensation (of his masculinity) is a dead giveaway, as well.

If, for whatever reason, you suspect your boyfriend of being interested in other men, here are some ways to snoop:

• Sure, you've never seen suspicious dating apps on his phone before, but when you delete an app from your phone, it's still downloadable from the cloud or your phone's memory. Many down-low "straight" guys get a random urge to act on their deepest desires for dick and often, repeatedly, download and delete apps like Grindr. Grab his phone, go to the app store and type in Grindr... It's the go-to hook-up app for "straight" guys seeking the D. If it has been downloaded before, you have a raging homosexual on your hands.

• Check his internet browser history. This is a no-brainer. If he uses a personal laptop that rarely has other users, he's not taking the time to delete his history... unless he's completely paranoid. So check out what kind of porn he's into. Every guy looks at it, straight or gay.

• If you've had friends tell you they think your boyfriend is gay... take it seriously. You may have the gaydar of a blind and deaf, mentally challenged first grader, but some of your friends, especially the gay ones, are usually spot-on. Set the closet-case up. If you have a gay friend at your disposal that your boyfriend has never met, have him make a move on your boyfriend. Sometimes the timing and setting isn't even an issue, all men would react differently to being hit on by another guy. Those with something to hide would most likely have the biggest problem. Reaction is key. Unless he's a major homophobe, it shouldn't be hostile. On the other hand, if he returns subtle gestures to the undercover queer, then something is inevitably off.

*Remember, most guys date women before they accept their homosexuality, if they ever do, and it's most prominent during the college years.

These all sound like paranoid ways to "catch a homo," but there's no reason any woman should feel like her boyfriend isn't attracted to her, you know, because there's a V where he'd prefer a D.

To prove I'm not making this shit up and these "down-low" and "curious" guys exist, here are some Grindr profiles I encountered in my last semester of WVU. Just one semester. These are the only ones I kept record of... In Morgantown, this was common:

1) 2)

3)4)

5)6)

Exhibit 1: This guy clearly lists he has a girlfriend he's not out to as, I'm assuming, bisexual. Looking for "NSA fun"... Cool, so your girlfriend doesn't know you like other men OR that you're using Grindr to solicit sex? Winner.

Exhibit 2: I talked to this guy from time to time. He was interested in "NSA fun" as well, and claimed to be "bi-curious", which is a "justifiable" way to say he was "straight" and closeted. I don't know if a girlfriend existed with this one... Got a lot of dick pics, though.

Exhibit 3: "Straight-curious"... come on, really? In the Grindr world, this headless torso has probably seen a lot action with other guys, as long as his secret face was cute. At what point- how many same-sex hookups- would you consider a man "straight-curious"? Personally, a one-time tryst should shed light onto whether a guy has homosexual desires. When they're soliciting sex on Grindr, or have been with several other men, they're easily a closeted, denying bisexual, if not blatant homosexual.

Exhibit 4: "If I am on, I am looking for DL fun." Umm, ok, closet-case "straight" guy. These types, with no picture at all, clearly only looking for sex, are the worst. They run rampant in the Morgantown Grindr scene.

Exhibit 5: This "straight" guy was especially hot. I would've loved to run into him on campus to see him in his natural habitat. He had a thing for gym fantasies. Literally, he wanted to suck someone off at the rec center after his workouts.

Exhibit 6: I hope you can't see this guys face, I was honestly too lazy to blur it out. Oh well, he was "definitely not" out, so you can put two-and-two together. I had never seen him on campus, so I really couldn't tell you. His secrecy, though, alluded to a "down-low", "straight" man.

So, does that make you girls wonder what some "straight" guys are doing behind closed doors? It should...

I think I'm going to start luring "straight" guys who use these apps into a trap and post their pictures online for all to see and identify. That would surely make me famous... and probably the most hated gay ever. Ohh well, it may teach otherwise "straight" men not to stray from their heterosexual lifestyles when they are clearly dating and misleading women.

-dylsny

Chloe Sevigny Does Pittsburgh

I came across these bizarre videos of a man in drag impersonating Chloe Sevigny awhile back, and now, she's been to Pittsburgh and tells viewers her favorite things of the city.

Girl, You're Dating a 'Mo

Female readers, I ask you, has the thought ever crossed your mind that your boyfriend could be a raging homosexual? Closeted, of course. With online dating apps like Tinder, OKCupid, Grindr, etc., taking over as the easiest way for our generation to meet a potential partner, I pose a major risk with some men today and the ease of accessing these apps.

I'm not going to lie, courting a "straight" man is something thrilling to me. I'm attracted to masculinity and confidence, something most notably characteristic of your typical "bro" from college or pretty boy down the street. What most of you don't know is how EASY it is to come across this type. If you've ever logged onto Grindr from you gay BFF's phone, you may realize how many men do not list a face picture. Granted, some guys enjoy their privacy. I'm openly gay, yet respect my right to privacy with these otherwise creepy and slutty apps available today. What is especially eery about most of these headless torsos is that they're sometimes "down-low" men who are "curious", "bisexual", or just looking for a hole to stick it in. These men are sometimes (most of the time) "straight".

What I can never fathom is a "straight" man who enjoys fucking other guys, giving head, or taking it in the ass themselves. How can they call themselves "straight" when they ironically like the taste of dick? Let me tell you a little story of how an innocent hook-up I had turned into a crazy scenario resulting in myself almost ruining a 6-year relationship.

I met a guy off one of the gay dating apps, "Scruff". (These names are hilarious, are they not?) I deemed him cute and after several days of talking, I felt he was relatively normal enough to invite over to hang out. What I didn't realize was that he wasn't interested in my company, but instead, my dick. "Luke" came over several times over a span of two months to "have a little fun" when we each had downtime. This is soooo typical for the majority of gay guys using these apps, but definitely out of character for myself. The thrill for me was that he wasn't out... and I was drowning in grad school with two jobs on the side. Some fun wasn't going to hurt. After awhile, I just wasn't into it anymore. He was inevitably very sketchy, so I stopped returning his requests to "have fun".

Months later, a fellow gay friend of mine was telling me about a guy he knows from his dorm days that pulled him into a club's bathroom to make out one night. The kicker: he was "straight" and had a girlfriend. Obviously, I asked for this closet-case's name and searched him on Facebook. It was none-other than "Luke". When I originally met "Luke", I thought it was odd I couldn't find anyone with his first and last name on Facebook, having come from an area where most of my friends were from: Bridgeport, WV. Once I had Luke's real name, I started creeping on his photos. This "down-low" guy happened to be in the same fraternity as one of my good friends from grad school, who I sat next to each day. After breaking this news to the gay friend who told me, he continued to tell me that "Luke" and his girlfriend had in fact been together for SIX years. SIX YEARS... and this motherfucker gets off by sucking dick.

Betrayed and baffled that someone would go to such great lengths to keep their true identity from me, I told my friend who was in the same frat as him. His response was the best: he wasn't surprised. His friends had always suspected "Luke" of being gay. I made sure that my friend wouldn't say anything of this revelation, because I would actually fear my life had he come after me, or worse, that others wouldn't believe me. Believe this, bitches, I keep evidence of this shit for YEARS. I mean, I had texts and pictures to prove it.

What I didn't do, which I still question to this day, is contact the poor girl who was dating this bastard. I mean, her boyfriend was cheating on her... with another man. I didn't feel it was the right place to "out" someone, fearing my own safety, nor was their relationship any of my business. Maybe there's a mutual agreement... maybe she's a lesbian? Who fucking knows. I had done the right thing months ago by ending it because of his suspicious and sketchy demeanor, anyways.

What irks me the most of this very true account is that the poor girl still doesn't know her boyfriend of SIX YEARS likes the taste of cock. Even more scary, STDs run rampant through both the straight and gay communities. Let's face it, though, a stigma is attached to gays for having higher HIV/AIDS cases. If this "straight" man happened to contract an STD of that kind and pass it along to his girlfriend, there would be no excuse for his actions. I may even turn my head if the woman wanted to castrate her cheating, closeted, and infected boyfriend.

With all that out in the open, riddle me this: 1 out of 10 men are assumed to be gay. Of that 10%, what percentage is closeted? My guess is that the closeted portion, the portion who may still sleep with and date girls to affirm their "masculinity," is MUCH LARGER than you'd think. If you have ever suspected your boyfriend of being gay, think long and hard. Go through his phone, check his internet history. If you have the slightest idea that your boyfriend really bats for the other team, major red flags should be raised. You can never be too sure... or too safe.

Tune in tomorrow for ways to detect whether you're dating a raging homosexual. I may even throw in MORE true accounts from my end.

-dylsny

Reality Setting In

This morning, I received a call from my mother's work phone before 530 AM Pacific time. You know it's serious when your mother intentionally wakes you up that early using her work line. I automatically thought the worst. With my crying mother on the other end, I immediately thought something had happened to Juju or my Grandfather. Anyone who knows me realizes that type of phone call may ruin me. They're two of the most important people in my life. It was a rude awakening realizing just how far away I am now, in case something like that had actually happened. I still can't fathom what I'd do, but it would haunt me forever knowing that I didn't have a chance to say goodbye or cherish the exact final phone call I might've had with either one.

I wish I could pick my family up and move them to California with me. Juju and I could go see Ellen together. That would be fabulous. I mean, let's be real, she may even get me a reality TV show. She'd obviously be the star, but I'd take it. Hoping I never get that call as long as I'm living on the West coast.

With all that said, please keep my family in your thoughts, and if you're religious like they are, in your prayers, for we have lost someone this morning.

Jourdan and I take on GoPro

More from in-and-out of the car during our trip! Please excuse the music edit on this one, still trying to get the hang of editing these things! Enjoy!

The Journey: Part II

Remember when I said I would never drive under the influence of marijuana again? Well, that lasted for about 12 hours. When we left Colorado Springs with the remaining edibles we had purchased, I had the bright idea, probably because I was hungry, to consume more before we crossed into New Mexico. What I didn't anticipate were massive storms throughout the state. What was most eery about these storms was "the great divide". To the left of the highway, the sky was clear as day, but to the right, you could see rain clouds hammering down and producing the scariest lightning I've ever witnessed. You think a conventional thunderstorm on the east coast is scary? Wait until you can see miles ahead of you in all directions and view different storm surges forming all around you. If I never witness another New Mexico storm, I'll be just fine.

A friend told me of the Petrified Forest National Park in Northeast Arizona, so we decided to stop, still high off edibles to see the colorful land formations and petrified wood in the center of the Arizona desert. What we didn't realize was the park was near closing, storms were forming in the area, and your car was checked upon exit. I rarely ever dabble with weed, and being especially high from the edibles freaked me the fuck out when we went to leave the park. I imagined the worst: There would be some sort of brief sweep through your car to make sure you didn't snatch any of their petrified wood. I had even convinced myself there were going to be dogs. I was about to get arrested in Arizona for having fucking weed cookies from a legal dispensary in CO.

We proceeded to the exit, glassy-eyed and tripping balls only to be 'waved' through by the teenage park attendant. All that freaking out for nothing. I could've stolen so much fucking wood and that little twat would've never known. Onto the Grand Canyon, where I figured it would be simple to park inside the park and camp in our car. Wrong, yet again. After realizing the town was miles from the crater itself and the park closed at a specific time, we sought help from an RV park that pointed us towards a desolate area a 1/2 mile from the main road. We noticed others doing the same, so we parked our car near fellow humans and tried to get comfortable in the front seats of my Jetta, which could not be reclined because of the inconceivable amount of shit I packed in the back. I figured I'd try and finish the edibles before crossing into another state before bed, so I doubled up on some cookies and fell asleep.

My co-pilot, Jourdan, had cracked her window for ventilation. I wasn't about to do the same with mine, because anyone could be in the woods surrounding us: axe murderers, serial rapists, rabid bears, etc. I tilted open the sunroof and fell fast asleep, very uncomfortably. I woke at 5:15 to get sunrise photos over the south rim and Jourdan informed me she heard noises all night and hadn't slept much... and that shortly after I fell asleep, she nudged me to roll up her window because she didn't feel safe, to which I replied, "you're fine". Whoops, sorry betch. Maybe you should've thought harder about having an open hole in your window, large enough to fit an arm, paw, or claw, in the middle of bumfucked Arizona forests.

We entered the park, I got my pictures, and we were off to Los Angeles- the home stretch! It didn't stop me yet again to eat more weed cookies, not knowing there was border patrol at the California line. Thank god I can't buy weed legally in this state without a med card, or I'd be tripping balls on the 101 every damn day.
                                     
*Sunrise, South Rim, Grand Canyon National Park

-dylsny

My Journey in Video

A little video I compiled with my co-pilot across the nation. I love my GoPro and the free editing software, it's so easy to use, I highly recommend it!

The Journey: Part I

Have you ever been to Hell on Earth? I have, and many know it better as Kansas. On August 12th, I packed up my little Jetta and embarked on a cross-country trip to California with my friend Jourdan. Thank god I had a co-pilot, because I may have easily left my sanity in the flat, never-ending, tortuous hell known as Kansas, had she not been there.

After stopping in Muncie, Indiana to visit my friend Alex and tour the campus of Ball State, where she studies graduate communications, Jourdan and I got back in my car and drove 16 straight hours from Indiana to Colorado Springs, CO. Ever wonder what is in those vast, open midwest states? Well, absolutely nothing. Nothing. At. All. Thankfully, the legalization of marijuana in Colorado, paired with the state's natural beauty made for a very eventful trip.

Upon getting off I-70 for the first time in fifteen hours, of which I drove the entire way, without stopping, I was blasted by a state trooper for traveling 78 in a 65 MPH zone. Jourdan and I still maintain there were no speed markers in that area. Blasphemy. We were staying with my cousin and his fiancé, but when we rolled up to an empty home, waiting on Zach to get there, we had convinced ourselves there was a home intruder, one that was even receiving text messages. We weren't keen on getting slaughtered in a suburban Colorado Springs home, moments after receiving a hefty speeding violation and quickly losing it to sleep deprivation, so we didn't make it further than the laundry room. When my cousin arrived, we realized it was his iPad making the text noises: joke was on us.

The next day, we explored Colorado Springs, Garden of the Gods, Red Rock Amphitheater, and downtown Denver. All beautiful places. After strolling around the mile-high city and having a few brewskis, Jourdan and I decided to purchase marijuana. I mean, it was legal, so what the fuck ever. After entering the establishment and getting cash out from a provided ATM machine, we loitered around the dispensary along with their noticeably high clientele. It was time to get on their level. We each purchased edibles and made our way out from the "happy zone".

Knowing that my cousin's fiancé was having a baby in the coming months, I thought of buying their daughter an outfit for letting us stay at their home. We pulled into a Denver shopping mall, where I convinced Jourdan to eat some edibles with me before going in. The woman at the dispensary recommended a certain amount, which I thought was small, so I suggested taking 50% more than the recommended amount, citing "they probably have a legal obligation  to recommend the same amount to everyone". Bad call, Dylsny, for Jourdan and I rarely smoke. Within 30 minutes, inside Urban Outfitters, Jourdan was losing her shit and it was frying me out.

She got some water and calmed down for maybe... 5 minutes. We finally found the Baby Gap when it started hitting me. I have never shopped for baby clothes, ever. I have never shopped for normal size clothing high, ever. This was turning into a nightmare. After settling on what I thought was a cute, mis-matched pink outfit for their baby, we proceeded to check out. The gay cashier made a comment about Jourdan being the expecting mother. I don't think either of us opened our mouths to communicate. At that point, I don't know if I could muster coherent words. We booked it out of Baby Gap to find the car. After stopping at Starbucks for a coffee, and another water for Jourdan, who looked like she could yakk at any moment, we continued to what I thought was the correct parking garage entrance.

We walked up the stairs to the level I believed we were on, but to no avail, could not locate my car. We rode the elevator back down, contemplated walking to the next entrance, but rode the elevator back up to a new floor. We played this game of walking the stairs and riding the elevator for a mere 40 minutes before I started to lose my shit. Not once did it cross my mind to set off the panic alarm on my key ring. Finally, after riding the elevator back up to the top level, where we had found ourselves the FIRST time around, I found the damn car. I was high as fuck, but originally correct at the first attempt of locating our car... had we just walked one more aisle of cars left, we would've seen my gray Jetta in plain sight.

We got in, thanked baby Jesus we were safe and drove home in the rain. We grabbed a few pizzas for everyone back home for dinner and stayed put, leaving the next morning. I told Jourdan after finding the car in the damn parking garage after nearly an hour of looking that I'd never get high and drive again. Yeah fucking right. Part II to come soon!

-dylsny

I'm back, bitches.

After a long hiatus from my treasured blog, I've finally settled in California and plan on regularly posting for my viewers' pleasure. What's new and not-so-new?... I will continue to reminisce about hysterical, college-era stories, most likely involving a friend or two back home. They're some of the most entertaining stories I hold onto and surely put a smile on many faces... or they make readers feel relieved they never had the misfortune of meeting us in our drunken stupors. In addition, I will be offering advice to both men and women, sparking discussion with controversial topics, and highlighting what I thought would be the best and biggest change of my life: moving to California.

So, East-coasters, look for new posts on your lunch break and West-coasters, tune in during your daily commute. I promise there will be something worth reading on this rather useless, unintelligent, drunk-induced blog!

Enjoy your weekend, too, bitches! I may get crazy and actually leave my humble studio apartment... But, it's still very unlikely since I haven't made a single friend in Lalaland and hardly ever see the ones I had upon my move. Life is great, isn't it?

-dylsny