This thread is like getting rust in your car. You can never get rid of it. 
I just want to know if I’m going to be invited to the wedding.
Good God no, Attack!
Just because Cuckoo apologised (and I accept that apology, btw) doesn’t mean we’re getting married.
I had assumed you were still emotionally* tied up with Skald. I meant **Cuckoorex’s **wedding to either the sweet young thing or some other non-psycho after he takes our advice and starts actually dating in the real world. We could have a combined Dopefest / bachelor party, and then, at the wedding reception, you and I could recite haiku we had written for the occasion.
Actually, this is starting to sound like a good idea.
*or whatever
Having finally finished reading this thread, beginning when I started lurking here in the late '40s, I’ll just add one point. Cuckoorex, if you continue to be as passive with all these women as you have been, you will only ever end up in relationships on their terms, not in anything approaching an equal relationship. Unless this is what you want, you’ll have to change your behaviour. I’ll also bet that, no matter what you do, no relationship with Lauren will ever be on anything but her terms, she’s too fucked up to think about you.
How do I know this? You could be basically describing my life, just with added pseudonyms and haiku.
Attack, I was truly, madly, deeply scarred when Skald announced to the worldwide webby world that as far as he was concerned, the Cheerleader Incident and our subsequent break-up was a joke. (The joke really, was his performance on the said night, but it’s not even cotton thread worthy.)
He has also, in the recent past denied me the magic cookie he had on offer which further crumbled our relationship.
Cuckoo will indeed marry that sweet young thing, but he’ll be in his late 50s and there could be a few hiccups with her visa.
It will, however give me plenty of time to construct the most perfect haiku for your suggested Cuckoo Haiku Foo Foo Do, and there will be long-awaited joy when I see those *tears in your eyes.
- When you realise the cheerleaders have turned up and, spell-check perfect and publicly scathing toward Skald (gimme an S…gimme a C…don’t look at me etc. etc.) they turn their attentions to you.
Steophan, Attack from the 3rd dimension will do that haiku for you. He is the current champion. (To be toppled at the aforementioned Dopebach in 2032.)
Wow. You’ve been lurking here since the 40s? It is taking longer than we thought, that’s even before AOL. We must have been making pithy remarks remarks with our telegraph keys. 
Welcome to the Dope, Steophan.
Thanks! It was more a snarky comment on the length of this thread, entertaining though it is.
You know Steophan, I remember you as such a dashing young rogue in the 40s, always wanting to fill my dance card. Snarky? You? Did something nasty happen during the war?
Attack - that ain’t no haiku…
All the snark on the old Straight Dope Pathe newsreels I watched must’ve infected me. I’ve gone from being Clark Gable in Gone With The Wind to Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino I’m afraid…
Well, it’s a comfort to me that when you blow a hole in my face, you’ll go inside and sleep like a baby. I care about Dopers, Steophan.
I’ll be fine, as long as you stay off my lawn!
Oh my jesus.
I’m a girl. I have a local bar that I go to once every two or three weeks.
There are a few “regulars” (more regular than me, at least) who are always there, always sitting in the same seats and drinking the same beers.
I don’t give a fuck how cute or nice they are… I’m NOT hooking up with them.
I may talk with them for HOURS about whatever bullshit is going on, but I’m not going home with them.
I may goof around and play with their hair, but I am not going home with them.
I may tease them. I am not going home with them.
I may get their number so that next time I’m bored at home and wonder what’s going on at the bar, I can text them and find out. I am … you get it?
I just spent the past HOUR reading through all of this bullshit, and dude, it’s CRINGE worthy.
Hate to say it, but this is how I see YOU:
Guy who is at the bar every time I go there. Guy who is nice. Guy who may buy me shots. Guy who will listen to me bitch about my ex. Guy who will tell me I’m beautiful. Guy who iiiiiiiisssss…
wait for it
wait for it
SAFE
you are safe. You have no penis.
you are safe.
You are my buddy who I may flirt with when I’m drunk. Because I’m drunk. I may text you when I’m sober in order to find out if I should come to the bar and get drunk. I may hug you. If I’m suuuuuuper drunk, I may kiss you (although, thank god, I’ve never done it).
Safe =/= Sex
Safe =/= Relationship
Yeah, I’m getting it. I know several of you (meaning women who act this way with me, obviously) and I know it’s pretty much my fault for taking up that role. It’s one of the main reasons why I’m cutting bar time down to almost nil, and working on finding other social outlets to meet people.
Heavens, if you enjoy going to a bar, just do it.
Just don’t rely on it as a means for getting a scrag.
And, if I could go and pick up a floozie at a bar I would always have “Clap for the Wolfman” at the back of my mind.
“…a floozie at (sic) a bar…” Cicero?
Does this thread have a pinprick wormhole to 1950?
“Clap for the Wolfman?” Is that about applause or antibiotics?
Whoa…I don’t want Lycanthropy AND The Clap at the same time. All the more reason to avoid bar floozies. Floozies in general just sound like something to be avoided.
BTW, Date #1 (Ashley) went about as well as I expected; pretty much small talk, a few questions that went a bit deeper, ended with a hug and a quick kiss.
Since I know everyone is just dying to know the latest (yes that is intrnded to be sarcastic); nothing of note happened with anyone except Lauren, and it pretty much was that Lauren and I moved on to full-on friends with benefits status (and not just the sporadic handjobs) and I gotta say, the way things are right now feel pretty good to me. Of course I may be biased now, but what the hell.
I for one am entertained. Post away.