Aerial Failure

So today's 'Potential Progression' is quite novel in that it takes place 20,000 feet in the sky. Did being off the ground allow me to spread my game-spittin' wings? Let's find out and get into today's...

Potential Progression:

Airplane Girl: sexy librarian/academic-type; So I'm sitting on the airplane, next to an open seat, when this aforementioned "sexy librarian" looking girl (who coincidentally, my wandering eyes had taken the pleasure in noticing earlier while boarding) asks if she can sit next to me. Knowing that I'd probably never see her again, I had to take the chance - I told her she could. I had only two hours to make my move. Pre-flight, conditions were favorable. I don't think she realized it, but the armrest was in the upright position (ergo, there would be no boundaries getting between me and my passionate aerial affair). Also, I was wearing my adorable lumberjack-esque flannel shirt (see picture below). So as we're about to take-off, I noticed she was looking through a folder labeled "Papers to Read." Now here's where it gets good... luckily I was travelling with my own collection of academic articles in my book bag and proceeded to take one out (an exquisite piece on a detailed corporate valuation method). Can you say smooth? I'm not completely certain, but I'm convinced she was writhing with pleasure (sexual, no less) on the inside. I tried extremely hard to make it appear like I was real digging the article, but my efforts went unnoticed. I even broke out the Kindle as a potential conversation-starter but got nothing. Honestly, to make a long flight short, absolutely zero progress was made. I hate myself. I had nothing, absolutely nothing to lose and I still managed to puss out. Looking back, should've asked her what her papers were about, where she went to school, what she was studying, when did she want to hook up in the restroom...
RESULT: FAIL - ON LAND OR IN THE AIR, I'LL NEVER MAKE PROGRESS


Fear the flannel


I've just been told that for the next twelve months, Adam Roper, will be my designated "Wing Man." Will this result in future positive progressions for John? Forecast: doubtful.

For those of you out there that enjoy the blog, I'd recommend you pick up anything by author/comedian David Sedaris. The man is brilliant (and slightly perverted). My favorite quote of his so far: "If you're looking for sympathy you can find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary." [Insert 'Summer Reading' plug]

Bonjour,

- JJ

P.S. If anyone's interested, I'd be willing to engage in any sort of 'summer fling.' Just saying...

Sexy Sextet

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

So it's been a good ten days since I've updated. Here's why: my parents think the blog is too vulgar (yeah it's vulgar, but it's good vulgar, right?). I think I'm going to start throwing in random vulgar expressions just to make things interesting. Think it of as perverted Tourette syndrome. Skeet skeet skeet. So my boyfriend, Harrison, and I have begun running on the Lakeshore Greenway, and that place is teaming with hotties. Take yesterday for example, which brings us into the most recent edition of...

Potential Progressions

The Sexy Sextet - sexy, minimally clothed, six (that's right, six) of them, tight bodies; So here's what happened: Harrison and I are running something like our 15th mile on the trail when this group of six smokin' hott coeds comes running our way. As are paths begin to cross, Harrison and I exchange high fives and giggles. Being the good friend I am, I tell Harrison that I'd take the three on the left and he would take the three on the right. I contemplated taking my shirt off, but knowing that Harrison wouldn't be able to control himself, I decided not to. Now here's the best part... I don't know if the girls were looking for some new gay boyfriends or if they actually thought we were good-looking, but as we ran by each other, one of the cutie pies said, "Good work guys." I panicked. Thank goodness for Harrison. He smoothly replied, [insert weeny voice] "You too." Looking back, I should've pushed Harry out of the way and taken all six for myself (and taken off my shirt).
RESULT: FAIL - WHERE'S MY WIT WHEN I NEED IT?


That's all for today's post. Sorry again for the break in the action.

Boner.

- JJ

It's been one week since Istarted this blog and I've made about as much progress with women as BP has made with containing the oil leak (boom shaka laka laka). I had a pretty good chance today to talk to this girl, but, as you can assume, I totally blew it. So here we go...

Potential Progression:

Running Track Girl: thin, possibly Latvian, great smile; Ok, so this girl was running around the running track at the Rec Center (where the odds of me talking to girls apparently go to hell) and every time she ran by me - I was doing my daily 1500 push-ups on one of the mats - we gave each other some eye contact (Step 2, remember?). Eventually, she finished and sat on one of the nearby mats to stretch. We were basically alone, and I kept telling myself to freakin' talk to her, but all I could muster was, "Can I borrow that?" (referring to the antibacterial spray used to clean the mats)... I'm sure that got her wet. Looking back, I should have said something like, "How was your workout?" or "You done with exams yet?" and just taken it from there. I guess a boy can only dream.
RESULT: PSH, AS IF...

One last thing. So today mother took me to Century Restaurant & Bar (the 'Bama Burger' is exquisite) and our waiter (who was gay) told us this story:

"One time, I was taking this lady's plate away, and apparently she wasn't done with her potatoes and she slapped my hand away. I glared at her and said, 'Honey, I'm just as effeminate as you and will not hesitate to slap you back!'"

That was by far the funniest thing I'd heard all day.

Tata,

- JJ

Runner Girls

Saturday, May 1st, 2010

My apologies for the brief hiatus. Well, Thursday night's concert was a terrible bust. Awkward John to the max. Here I was surrounded by hundreds of girls (did I mention they were Samford girls?), and I totally pussed out and sat away from the crowd. Zero progress made that night. However, yesterday I came up with an ingenious idea to approach a girl. Ok, so I was prowling one of the academic buildings when I noticed this brunette cutie wearing some gray Toms. I also own a pair of gray Toms; however, I was not wearing them. Now here's my plan, from here on out I will keep these Toms in my bookbag so that in the chance I see here again, I can put on the shoes and go up to her and say, "Excuse me. So am I wearing women's shoes, or are you wearing men's shoes?" What a great way to start a conversation. I figured that after about 13 seconds of that we'd be making out. Seems foolproof enough to me. Don't be surprised if the number of women wearing gray Toms skyrockets after this.
Let's now get into Friday's edition of:

Potential Progressions

Directions Woman: over 50, wrinkly, unattractive, foreign; this woman (Kenya maybe) comes up to me as we're about to cross 14th Street and asks me for help in finding 1400 University Blvd. I looked her up and down and found nothing physically attractive, but my penis told me otherwise. Not knowing which building that address corresponded to, I told her I'd walk with her to help her find it. As we cross the street, I look up at Heritage Hall and see the first three numbers of the address: 140. Assuming this was 1400 University Blvd, I sent the woman into the building and told her to take the elevator up to the 4th floor. Feeling proud (but at the same time stupid for not getting her digits), I continued on my way. Seconds later, I look up and see the remaining address number: 1. I look across the street - 1400 University Blvd. Damn.
RESULT: EHHHH.....

Runner Girls: athletic, majority were nipping, college-aged; Alright, so here I am at the Dollars for Scholars 5K/10K surrounded by hundreds of women in tank tops and running shorts (and the occasional spandex). What I had planned to do was wait until after the race started to find a hottie running solo and saying something smooth, such as "Wanna be running buddies?" But as is always the case with me: shoulda, woulda, coulda. I'm still kicking myself for not trying something. Worse case, she says no, and I run up and try it on the next girl. "Are you tired? Cause you've been running through my mind allllll day, baby."
RESULT: OPPORTUNITY LOST

I mean, if I came up to you and said something like "John Murray wants YOU", would you say no?


Notice the woman behind me to the right - she wants it bad. And so does the black guy.

Boy, I really need to start progessing, I'd say I've regressed since Monday night's Car-Next-To-Me Girl. As my good friend Josh tells me, "Gotta keep taking chances." Also, there's a high probability I'll run into Not-Gay-But-Totally-Queer Guy today at the baseball fields (hope he brought some tissues this time [insert winky face]).

Let's conclude this post with a brief story from work. Yesterday a little kid peed on the brick wall surrounding the playground. Though it was obvious he did it, he blamed it on a dog. Based on the projection pattern of the urine, we're talking about a massive, 10 foot dog. To the perp's dismay, none of the other kids had seen this beast come pee on the wall minutes earlier. He's banned from the playground for the rest of his adolescent life.

Ladies beware: April progressions, bring May indiscretions.

- JJ