Another hopeless escapade flushed down the toilet. Another opportunity with the mythical species that is the female squandered. I decided to proceed along the whole “self improvement, No more Mr. nice guy” plan all my friends and the self-help gods have been raving about. I’ve exhausted about every option in hopes to better my predicament.From the LA Fitness membership, regular waxes, the nairing of my gonads and I even started that cult, the KETO diet. Good god, other than my below average appearances and demeanor, the question must be asked… why will no girl look In my general direction?? Then it hit me like a bag of dicks, it’s my face. The pizzeria that is my face has become a female repellant. In light of this discovery, I sashayed down to the local Walmart and invested $4.67 into myself with a seaweed face mask I found on isle 7. After all, chicks love clear skin. Like a 13-year-old boy who just thought he discovered Playboy, I couldn’t wait to apply this magical mud to my face. I started applying what looked like human feces to my face. A real human centipede scenario all up in my face. 25 minutes in and the mud is finally starting to harden. Apparently you ladies have the patience for mud to harden but if I have 8 beers and things aren’t performing as they should be, it’s the end of the world. 10 more minutes and my face has turned to Elmer’s glue. Shit, it’s in my eyebrows. After 10 more minutes of meticulously washing this shit out of my eyes, the peeling begins. Like a caterpillar shedding its cocoon into a butterfly my new face is ready to be revealed. I can’t wait to go from a Seth Rogan like face to a Ryan friggin Reynolds. POOF! I look the same, like a chubby Rudy. Turns out, all I got out of this foolish seaweed wrap was the aftermath which was comparable to chemical burns on my face. Another failed improvement plan. No More Mr. Nice Guy.
Categories: Sexless In Seattle