Man-Blog

Broccoli of Dating

Editor: Adrian Magnaye | Section: the-fag-squad | Email this | Viewed 499 times.

This is probably my second collaborative blog entry with anybody, and I’m liking it. Well, Kring and I got tired of whining to each other about how sucky our respective love lives are, so we decided to collaborate and whine to you. So yeah, bear with us on the emoness and all. It is Valentine’s after all.

KRING: I’ve been single for the past 22 years and I think I’ve somehow flaunted that fact like a tiara on my head. To me, NBSB = high standards. Not. In reality, I’ve cried a little too much thinking that maybe, just maybe, I’m not good enough. You see, guys only started asking me out last year. Hell, I had my first real kiss just before the 2007 elections and I have never received a love letter in my life. Not even anything that says “I crush you. Pautang naman ng pamasahe…” (I have a crush on you. Can I borrow fare money?)

ADE: I actually did that to someone. Y’see, I was broke way back in college and I needed money REAL badly. So I like looked for the ugliest fattest, richest girl I could find. So I wrote the mushiest love letter I could think of and then five paragraphs on I asked for a hundred bucks so I could afford to eat lunch. And then she probably fell in love with me then and there. Yeah, I got my lunch money but I spent the next three years of college with a fat girl hiding in the bushes everywhere I go. Also, it was scary- wait aren’t we writing about the Broccoli of Dating? Yeah, so I just got my 20th Valentine’s Day date rejection. And my fifth restraining order.

KRING: That’s the problem with you, guys! You take advantage of us girls who just want to be loved. I mean, I’m guilty of that, being the googly-eyed hopeless romantic that I am. I was the girl who’d walk in the rain, hoping that someone would care enough to share an umbrella with her. The girl who’d hang out by her lonesome on a rooftop, smiling and feeling the wind while listening to a Koreanovela soundtrack. The girl who’d write her phone number on bus seats, waiting for her knight in shining armor to become her “txtm8″. All because I was and still am nobody’s girl.

ADE: Yeah, but are you creepy? Exactly. But you see, I’m what you’d call the Gay Best Friend Only Straight. You honestly don’t know how many intimate stories I’ve heard from various (hot) women who apparently think I’m “safe”. It sucks, knowing that they’re dating an asshole and I’m here to listen to their stories, and totally willing to take care of them better. And guess what? They don’t see that! Why? Is it because I have boobs?

KRING: Well, to be politically correct, they’re manboobs, dear. Manboobs. And what are you talking about? I may not be the gay best friend but guys don’t think I’m female either! Fine. I’m bordering on alcoholic, I curse like a sailor, I crack more jokes than your uncle and I laugh like that obnoxious jeepney honk you often hear at Cubao or Marikina but I still have womanly sensibilities! I’m just a girl, standing in front of a guy, asking him to lo- wait. That’s Julia Roberts. I’m not your typical girl but who likes boring people anyway?

ADE: But I’m boring. However, I’m no douchebag. I don’t have the latest cars, I don’t break skulls in a dark alleyway, I don’t impregnate fifteen different women at once. In fact, I just like to cry at sunsets while I write poetry and paint the scenery and- wait, I think I finally figured out why I don’t nail the women. Suicide break brb.

KRING: Don’t kill yourself. You’re not alone. I might swing the other way myself if this whole thing continues. Or instead of being a lesbian, I can just lower my standards and go out with the next kanto boy who’d play DOTA at the internet shop across the street.

ADE: Why lower your standards? Kring, dear, that seriously reeks of desperate. I tried that once. Lowering your standards, I mean, not dating DOTA boys. I sent this girl a text and she replied with “Hi aDe! y3z, i rLy tXt d1$ w@y;;;;;”

Biggest. Mistake. Of. My. Life.

KRING: Because honey, that’s what you get when you message people who vandalize on public vehicles. Uhm. Yeah. But you know what, it dawned on me that perhaps, it’s not the guys, it’s me who has a problem- that I’ve watched a little too many Dawson’s Creek episodes and sang On My Own a tad too much that I’ve boxed myself in this whole unrequited love crap.

ADE: Bah. Dawson’s Creek. It does not, in any way, resemble real life. I mean, neither Dawson nor Pacey ended up with Joey. Guess who got Joey in the end. Tom Cruise. Yes, Tom Couch-Jumpin’ Cruise. And they’re deeply shrouded in Scientology. You see, real life doesn’t have to mirror a TV show. In fact, it never does. Trust me. I tried very hard to emulate the life of Jack Bauer (with manboobs), only to fail. So my point is that just because Joey loves Dawson and ended up with Tom Motherfuckin’ Cruise doesn’t mean you have to end up with an unrequited love. Maybe sometimes you just fall in love with an idea of a person and the reason that person becomes your great unrequited love is that you never really got to know the person well. In conclusion: you can actually have a vague idea of Dawson’s Creek storylines and give love advice without being gay. Please don’t think I’m gay. (I’m not)

KRING: Hold it. You mean you’re not really gay? LOL. Though I still disagree with you that real life doesn’t have to mirror a TV show because I live inside my own romantic-comedy movie shuddup you can’t change my mind, I think you’re right. All along I probably have been unconsciously rejecting the idea that I can actually like someone who would return my feelings or that the song On My Own was not written for me. We are the broccoli of dating. And even if many people hate that vegetable with a passion, there are still some who’d choose it over potato chips. And those would are smart because they know what’s good for them. THEY WILL LIVE LONGER. I mean, I love broccoli. I bet you do, too. So there’s still hope for us, Ade.

ADE: I certainly hope so. It’d suck living life looking for that broccoli-eater (lolz i made a very vague dirty joke… get it? No? I hate you.) when, in fact, I don’t have any. Jaded as I may be, I’d like to think that there’s someone out there for me. Waiting. *a vagina sprouts out where my balls used to be*

KRING: PS: I honestly, seriously cried when Joey married the anti-Christ, I mean, Tom.

ADE: PPS: Me too. No wait.