TGIF, turkeys! Greetings from 1982! So, how'd you spend last New Year's Eve? No wait, let me guess... you drank alone and then masturbated while sobbing hysterically. Well, mine was far-out. My girlfriend, Candace, was out of town. Again! Or so she claimed. And it's really getting to be drag considering we've been dating (as far as I'm concerned) for about a year and the last time I actually laid eyes on her was the day before Valentine's day. So I thought I was just going to do my usual New Year's Eve thing: selectively dry-hump some choice booty in the throng at Times Square. It's perfect for me because the crowding is so dense they can't really turn around to slap you. Although you can tell they really wanna. But on December 31st, this bouncer I know, Leopold -- he's like, 6'6 and built, like he's chiseled out of granite or something, and he always has the grooviest suits and a ton of gold chains and this handlebar mustache that looks fantastic, I mean, he's just so cool, he probably has like a billion girlfriends -- anyway, Leopold actually invited me to his pad for New Year's Eve "to see the ball drop" as he put it. I told him I bet his apartment would be literally swarming with chicks and he said "I can think of one bitch who wouldn't miss it for the world" and I said, "Well, sign me up!" It turned out that I was the first person to arrive but Leopold put a drink in my hand as soon as I walked through the door, just to make me feel at home. I don't remember much after that but I do recall waking up the next morning naked on a garbage barge and there's a peculiar new wart on my pecker so I assume I had a blast. But enough about me! I'm here to help you losers score more foxes!
Did you know that your home is one of your best tools for winning the mating game? It's true! If even one aspect of your domicile is a turn-off, it's good night nurse for you. I learned that one the hard way! I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. (Although that would be pretty hilarious.) As a sort-of "worst case scenario" let's look at my first date at my first apartment, illustrated by scenes of something equally pathetic: Dazzler's visit to Project Pegasus!
Not enough paint-by-number horse pictures.