When geeks attack...

Women like it romantic and the like. Apparently it causes their amygdales and limbic systems to cook their frontal cortices in pungent hormonal soup. Simple enough. However, it seems that throughout the course of history I've had to explain the propositions to women after I've made the propositions to said women. True stories:

Scenario 1
She has a four letter name. I convert that to ASCII (the capital), I convert those 8 digits to Binary, I convert that Binary to a 'how many ones and zeroes' number. I further convert that number to hex. This leaves me with 9B7623BBA8F5733E. And a very befuddled young woman who didn't talk to me for the rest of class. The lilac smelling page I wrote this on notwithstanding.

Scenario 2
She likes Shakespeare. Cleopatra to be specific. Or so I can derive from her facebook profile. So I send this to her:
"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale;
Her infinite variety, other women cloy.
-Signed, Salad Days."

And while I understand this sounds like a glorified 'Wanna make frandship?' request, why do people lie about liking Shakespeare?
She hasn't replied yet. But I assume that's due to the vernacular of having called her an old woman.

Scenario 3
I walk up to a girl in the library. Simple enough. Sample the following conversation.

Me: I know you don't like me. But do you like me?
She: Huh?
Me: Stop being dumb. You understand what I mean.
She: How am I supposed to like you? As a friend, or...
Me: You're such a tubelight.
She: (desperately) Do you like Mahatma Gandhi? Here's a nice autobiography.
Me: I get the point (wench).

Scenario 4
I'm proud of this one. Doesn't reek of dysfunction. So I says to her, "You're a vision in red. Poetry has been written for much less." "Really?" "Yes."
Cue burly boyfriend with huge mobile phone. Burly boyfriend says hi. I wish someone would let loose rabid attack dogs. I'd point out that his phone is using ye olde Android 1.6, but I stop... there are women present, after all.

Sigh. Where are the sexy cryptologists and single language experts in LBD's? Life's not fair.

They simply look better…

You're an ugly little fuck, aren't you? Chances are, your mother was lying when she recklessly blurted out she "could" love your face. And that one would tend to run out of euphemisms in any conversation involving your 'unconventional' good looks and excluding blasphemous profanity.

But if anything, the universe has a profound sense of fairness. I'm sure the powers that be gave you that winning personality and biting sense of humour while screwing you in the posterior in every other department. In that case, why so serious, jack?

Could it be that you may have realized that the world does indeed revolve around the good looking Gigafucks around you? That as and when it comes to the propagation of the species (and all the benefits that entails), the people chosen would most likely be them over you. That too by any jury including not only the average innocent bystander; but also your own mother. (see above)
Let's work with that for now. In fact, break up the mob, put down the Molotovs and the pitchfork, and we'll talk.

Get used to the basic idea that someone better looking than you at your relatively average plane of existence will get the bigger better deal every single time. And those who haven't gotten it yet are looking for it.
Think about all those girlfriends/boyfriends falling into the "one who got away" category.
Lets face it, how many lines do you remember from that beautiful sonnet about her intoxicating wit or his bleeding loyalty? That compared to every interstellar fuck who knows how she walks in beauty like the night.

Perhaps you'll realize the mitigating value of a blinding set of 32 when you understand that you yourself are just as prone to the marketing assault of beauty over substance. Why else would you ask your girlfriend/boyfriend to lose that extra kg? Or go 'awww' over photos of kittens?

You, Quasimodo, are living in some else's world. And you're humping it all wrong.

Oh… and since I know you only look at the pictures…
To put things in perspective, I'd (still) sleep with her.

You could care less…

I think you're a good person. But then, I also believe in romantic love and the cinematic comeback of Chunkey Pandey. Clearly, I'm an optimist.

However, I also think you're seriously fucked up in the head.
Look in the mirror. You're hurt, badly so. You've entertained thoughts of carpet bombing his/her neighbourhood. He/She has found someone so wonderful that they're shiny. You're that close to crying. Why?
Maybe it's because of some strange sense of belonging to a relationship that you were "firm-titanium-rod-in-appropriate-orifice"ed out of. Or perhaps it's because you're convinced that the one sided perverted feelings you're having will mean the end of your world should they go unreturned.

While I'm that close to telling you to buy an inflatable partner and spend that rest of your undignified life in windy bliss; I feel I owe you something out of some misbegotten sense of kinship. Something apart from the aforementioned firm titanium rod. So how about this…

Nobody holds more power over you than someone who cares less about the relationship™ you're in. I'm going to hope you're not the idiot you look like and atleast know that you're with such a person. And in case you don't… here's a symptom list for you:

1. You believe you're a nice person
   You're really far too nice to tell him/her/it when you feel you've been wronged. Historically, God hath made nice people so that the assholes/dicks/bitches at the top of the food chain would have someone to feed off of. I recommend you get rid of your insipid conscience and go kick some cute puppies somewhere. For once, stand up for yourself in your Viagra deprived existence.
   
   
2. You cry
   There are only two real reasons to cry. Onions and Skynet launching nukes. In the absence of such, the third reason is that you hate yourself. As in deeply despise.
   Take a moment to be quiet. And listen.
   Do you hear that? That's the silence of 6 billion people not caring about your idiotic tears. Or the reason behind them.
   
   
3. You _always_ call back first after a fight
   If somehow you're not personally responsible for the financial security of Airtel or can be made to agree with (1) above with a little alcohol, take a MotherFrocking hint and stop doing it.
   
   
4. You like Twilight, Krishi Darshan and/or reruns of Kyunki...
   Self explanatory.
   
   
5. You have no problem expressing your feelings
   I believe the scientific term for a member of your species is "namby pamby". Nobody cares about what you feel. And if you're going about on your merry gay horse telling people about it, I don't think you do either. Go to your neighbourhood pirated software shop and get some self respect, you stud you...
   
   
6. You're willing to forgive considering how he/she must be feeling at such a difficult time
   What are you? Mother Teresa with a hangover? Don't expect an apology and don't wait for one. But persecute with passive-aggressive tactics until you do get one. No point not being mature about this.
   But don't for the love of God be understanding about anything until asked to be. I'd quote Ivan Pavlov and the hungry dog but I know you to be intelligent.
   

Moral of the story… if you find yourself repeatedly committing these common place errors usually confused with finding happiness in love, please take a closer look at the gigantic hole that used to be your soul. I want you to be happy. More so when you realize that you don't have to be tortured anymore.