The Move

On February 28th, 2014, I made a bold move and left New York City, a place I had lived for the so-far-32.5 years of my entire life*, and moved to Portland.  No, not west-coast Portland.  It took about 10 times of people freaking out and asking me if I was going to become a Seahawks fan before I started saying "I'm moving to Maine...Portland, Maine."  Previous to this, my biggest jump had been from Queens to Brooklyn, and while switching boroughs might mean people questioning your loyalty and ability to still proclaim "QUEENS, WHAT!"**, there's a lot less to plan for and preparation involved.

I had been offered a better job at a company in Portland, so my timing was based on when they wanted me to start.  I had hoped for a leisurely 3 month transition period, which most people would use to sell the apartment they co-owned, visit Portland and find an apartment their, pack, etc., but which I hoped to milk vacation days at my current job.  Not me.  I was finally able to answer questions about where I was going to live when an apartment essentially fell in my lap two weeks before I was to leave.  My priorities were such that I researched how to get a library card before I thought about hiring movers to help upon arrival.  Whatever.  It worked out.  I'm now jacked AND I have a list of books on hold at the Portland Public Library, main branch.

*unless you count the ages of 0 to 3, and I do not.

**traded in for a rowdy, prolonged "BROOOOOOK-LYN"

This Dating Life: Clear Headed

I recently had a great first date, with a lady from Connecticut.*  We discussed many things, including cookies for dinner, and how her father calls woodchucks "varmints."  It's long been a secret desire of mine to date a relative of Yosemite Sam.  I also proved a theory I've long believed: one drink is just not enough for her to make a mistake.

*historically one of my least favorite states.  CT drivers refuse to use the right lane for any reason, leaving the left and middle lanes to be clogged.  Greenwich has so much money it hurts my soul, and Stamford always has a traffic jam on I-95, for no damned reason.  It needlessly further distances me from loved ones: Were Connecticut to be removed from the map, my trips to Massachusetts would be considerably shorter.  However, they do have some great, rich top soil, and the Hutch is kinda bad-ass.

Professional Movie Review: Lincoln

Lincoln was many things.  A great president.  A city I assume I never want to visit.  Fun toy based on logs.  A bit too long.  And a pretty good movie with great acting.  However, it was not the action-packed movie with both Daniel Day Lewis and vampires that I was hoping for.  In fact, in three hours of Civil War history, I didn't see a single vampire get hunted, nor even bare its teeth.

I did, however, see Lincoln get upstaged repeatedly by whatever character Tommy Lee Jones played.  That's not to take anything away from Abe.  Tommy Lee Jones was just intense, amazing, and very likable, cemented by the ending.  I actually heard an argument the other day where someone was mad that DDL was being considered for a Best Actor award, since "nobody knows what Lincoln was actually like, therefore how can you say DDL played him really well?"  From the home movies that were recovered on Lincoln's cell phone, that's how.

The movie should have been called "The 14th Amendment" (or whatever amendment it was that freed slaves, I don't remember history too well and there's no possible way I could quickly research this information) or perhaps "Mary Todd Lincoln is constantly hysterical and it annoys me."  The movie was less a biography and more about a specific period of time and an act that changed history.  For the better.  That's why the ending pissed me off so much.  Spoiler alert.  He gets assassinated.  In a theater.  Everybody who's passed 2nd grade knows this, so why spell it out in the movie?  It's not like after the amendment passed, I was wondering what would happen next?  There was no cliffhanger, no possible sequel, and no need for a montage with text on the screen to let me know what happened to all the characters.  Everybody already knows.

I did learn some interesting things, like not all the Northerners in Congress were for freeing all the slaves.  You never really read about that in our history books.  That and the White House was constantly cold.  Lincoln spends most of his time in the White House walking around in a Snuggie.  Either he was secretly a woman (everyone knows women don't have blood, which is why they're always cold) or he didn't know how to dress himself very well.  It was this slight affectation that proves how well Daniel played the part.

Professional TV Review: Game of Thrones

I recently finished George Ruby Red Railroad (leave off the last R for savings) Martin's masterpiece, Game of Thrones, and decided to branch out from doing professional movie reviews to just-as-professional TV reviews.  My choice to watch the show after I read the book stems from being a big believer in using your own imagination to bring the characters to life.  Having finished that, I decided I needed to watch the show for a number of reasons, chief amongst them everyone declaring what a great show it was, and wanting to see what a direwolf and direwolf pups look like, in real life.

I'm currently in the middle of the first episode, but so far all that's happened is I've been reminded how much I HATE Sansa.  She is so whiny and annoying, and nothing has even happened yet.  However, now I don't have to use my imagination to picture what me punching Sansa looks like; I can punch the TV every time she comes on screen.  Thanks, HBO!

I've heard the show follows the exact plot of the book, so there's little chance anyone on screen will punch Sansa, or one of the wolves will go CHOMP.  However, I'm holding out hope that she gets her due for whininess later in the season, or even better, this first episode.  Man, I hate Sansa.

Professional Movie Review: Hunger Games

It turns out, I don't have the emotional capacity or maturity to watch The Hunger Games.  Nor, you could argue, the stones.  My most recent guys night out involved me hunched over in a corner, gently rocking back and forth, and saying "please don't let them get catness, please don't let them get catness," while my friends exclaimed the movie wasn't brutal enough.  The one point I will agree with my bloodthirsty gladiator friends is that Catness never had to make a hard decision.  She was never forced to kill the innocent, or the cute, to survive.

Beware.  Spoilers abound.

The thoughts I remember having during the movie, when not crying or getting excited over something:

• That fancy city was what would happen if Marilyn Manson, the Joker, a flamingo and Demolition Man ever tried to conceive a child together, and then the child decided to import a futuristic Mermaid Parade.
• Pita is not a boys name.  Neither is Gale.  Peter is.  And so is Hurricane.
• It really bothered me that the people running the "game" could just conjure up fireballs and ground hounds to help kill people.  Takes away from the whole gladiator / fairness aspect, I thought.
• It was a little creepy when Pita said he'd been watching Catness and following her all the time.  "Everyday.  No, seriously.  No, no, seriously." Stares intensely at her.  "EVERY.  DAY."  Proof once again that women love to be stalked.
• I KNEW the little girl was going to be killed.  I just knew it!  Mostly because everyone had to die, as that was the main point, but still.  I totally called it.
• I was very satisfied that the movie had an ending, but very confused by that fact as well.  I remember watching Lord of the Rings and knowing it was a trilogy, yet still being utterly bewildered and majorly angered by the "ending" where the intrepid band of adventurers walked across a plain and then...End.
• What happens now?  Does Catness have to keep fighting in the games because her sister is too scared all the time?  If only there were SOME way to find out what will happen in the next movie.

Birbigs Inspired Mom Joke

My sister and I were planning out my Mom's birthday, the same way we do every year.  We talk about it a month before it's going to happen, then do nothing.  Then, a week before, we discuss what we should do for it, then do nothing.  A few days before, we discuss restaurants and logistics, then do nothing.  Finally, the day before, we talk on the phone about restaurants.  And finally, do nothing.  Until the very next day, when we make reservations.  Which is exactly what reservations were invented for...last minute table saving.

This year, we decided to break from tradition and look for a good French restaurant.  We're looking on nymag.com for their restaurant recommendations, entrees around 25 to 30 bucks, so we could all enjoy appetizers, a bottle of wine (or some French malt liquor, whatever) and dessert.  Nothing more expensive, so my sister and I wouldn't go broke.  You know, a nice dinner.  At a place my mom would like.  However, all we could find were places that were $40 and up for entrees.  I told my sister, "it's like, I love you, Mom, but maaaaaybe not for $75 dollars a person."

Epilogue: We found a cheaper French restaurant.  It was delicious.  My mother enjoyed it, as we all did.  The wine list baffled me, but the sommelier was helpful, and even taught me how to write "Happy Birthday, yo!" in French.  I have since forgotten.  Happy New Year everyone, and remember to cherish your family.  Just maybe not at such a high price point.

I'm Allergic To...

Recently, I received my first physical in three years, which I was more excited than is probably normal for.  I was very brave during my tetanus shot (apparently you need one every 10 years, but if you can't remember your last one, it's ok to double or quadruple up) and blood-let like a champ (I'm very competitive).  Despite this, I did NOT receive a lolly or any stickers.  Perhaps I should return to my old pediatrician; he always had a stockpile of He-Man and GI Joe stickers for me.

What really had me excited was the blood test I was getting for allergies.  For many years, I'd been allergic to fresh strawberries, and now this test would tell me whether I'd outgrown that.  For eight, long, stressful, other adjective days after, I awaited the results.  Salvation came in the form of a phone message, letting me know I was allergic to apples and pears (I beg to differ), but no mention of strawberries.  I was cured!  Possibly even by the power of Greyskull.  A few years ago, I faced my aversion to pecan pie, and proudly declared it not yuck, which meant there wasn't a single pie I didn't like.  I could now say the same in the fresh fruit realm; there isn't a single, non-poisonous berry I can't, and won't, eat!

This elation was short-lived, however, as the phone message droned on and on about things I am allergic. Surprisingly, I'm allergic to mold, but only one kind.  There goes my plan to coat my apartment in mold.  I'm also severely allergic to hazelnuts, but am allowed to eat them (not logical), and a slew of trees: maple, birch, beech, elm, cotton wood, pecan / hickory, and finally, most allergic to oak trees, which is odd, because I used to play with acorns all the time as a kid.  I'll avoid trees as much as I can for now, but I think it's finally time those tall bastards got what they deserve.  Time to chop down forests!

This Dating Life: Girlfriend Chronicles

Conversations that I've had with my girlfriend that I probably should have known better about:


While lying in bed peacefully, enjoying a quiet moment together:


"I'm gonna pick like, EIGHTEEN pounds of strawberries tomorrow," I exuberantly exclaimed.


"I was lying here thinking how glad I am that I found you and how happy I am," she said, somewhat disappointedly.


"Me too.  But I'm also just reeeeeeally excited for strawberry picking.  But yea, I like you too a lot."


While discussing my job:


"I got to look at so many cute animals yesterday.  There were puppies and babies, and evil kittens and babies, and puppies and evil kittens, it's ridiculous.  All I do all day is look at adorable animals and half naked women.  Well, usually they're really like, three quarters naked."


"Oh good," she said, though I was pretty certain she didn't actually mean it.

Let's Get a Physical, Physical...

For my first checkup in three years, I chose a female doctor at a practice recommended to me by my boss.  I wavered over this decision, as I've always felt more comfortable discussing symptoms with a male doctor.  My only real experience with female doctors had been on the internet, if you get my drift. I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into, though again, if it was anything like the internet, she wouldn't be the one to say "open your mouth and say ahhh."


It was a pretty good experience, as I found myself easily talking to her and able to trust her, which is an important part of the doctor / patient relationship to me.  She offered to test for many things in my blood, including allergies and something called cholesterol, so that was all a plus.  But what sealed the deal was when she asked me to turn my head and cough.  It's MUCH better to have a female doctor touching your fun parts then a male doc.  My only complaint is I left confused at not getting a happy ending.

Hollywood Birthday Presents

Thanks for the birthday present, Hollywood.  Once again this year, you've created a Marvel comics-based movie just in time to celebrate me, and along with a few other titles, that, although they didn't come out on my ACTUAL birthday, were still probably made with me in mind.  Chief amongst these is Avengers, which is a fantastic follow-up present to last year's Thor, a movie I've been wishing for at least the last 12 birthday candle blow-outs.  A movie about the Norse God of Thunder, who also just happens to be my favorite Marvel super-hero, had big shoes to fill.  Which it did.  Fill the shoes, I mean.  The only way to make this a better birthday present last year was to have Natalie Portman share equal time shirtless with Chris Hemsworth.  But back to this year.  As if Thor, the amazing Robert Downey Jr and equally amazing, but for different reasons, Scarlett Johannson weren't enough, Avengers gets HAWKEYE, my favorite archer not named Robin Hood, played by Jeremy Renner (of Unusuals unfame).


But the present parade doesn't end there.  Presumed abducted by aliens, writer Gideon Defoe makes a triumphant return with his The Pirates! Band of Misfits movie, which appears to combine multiple books into one cartoon movie.  As if just creating the movie wasn't enough, my friend Hollywood also asked David Tennant, aka the best Dr. Who ever, to voice a character.

Wait, there's more?  How could Hollywood be so generous, you may ask.  We go way back.  Coming out in a few short days is RIHANNA'S acting debut!  Sure, it's in the sure-to-be-crappy Battleship, which is SO untrue to the original game, but it's still a movie with Rihanna in it.  I'll assume this was Hollywood's idea of a gag gift.  Still, I'm definitely sending you a Thank You card this year, 'wood.

Office Job Pitfalls

I recently tricked an old boss into giving me a job at the stock photography company she's running, which is great for me, because I like getting paid.  It allows me to live indoors (which is very important to me in the winter), and buy food to eat, and do other things that allow me to keep living.  I've been at the job now for about 5 months, and it's been going swimmingly.  Mostly.  It took me a while to overcome my biggest hurdle, which was salutations.


As part of my job, I had to call and email a lot of photographers.  It was easy enough to sign off my emails with "Thanks, L Bo," but I wanted something a little more fun and creative.  Many of our photographers are British, which allows them to casually and breezily say things like "Cheers," to end a conversation.  I, however, am American, and on top of that, not nearly cool enough to use that phrase on the phone, and in an email, it feels like I'm cheating.  I've tried many incarnations on the phone, like "talk to you soon," which is often a lie; "have a great day," which makes me sound like a salesman; and "sincerely," which doesn't even make sense.  I've finally settled on "Toodles," or "Ta-ta for now," when it's more formal.  Obstacle hurdled.

This Dating Life: Back Again, Surprise!

Conversation with woman from online dating site who I never met, but spoke with 6 months ago, then started dating someone else, now back in the dating game, and hoping to woo her into going out with me, since she was of the mind set that I was very inconsistent and inconsiderate:


Scorned woman: What do you do for a living?  I've forgotten


Me, pluckily: I'm a CIA agent/photographer/urban farmer/leg model


Her: unemployed?


Me, truthfully for the first time in too long, and triumphantly: Actually, no


Her: I'm guessing you are a photographer


Me, hysterically: That's cause you haven't seen my legs yet


Her, in a textual tone that let me know my goal wasn't working: Oh god


Me, trying to answer for real:  I am a photographer.  I'm working at a photo agency right now.  I teach. And I AM an urban farmer.  But I'm not a hipster.


Her, possibly disappointedly, and definitely breaking fundamental rules of English 101: But you aren't a leg model.  And you aren't a CIA agent.


Me: I can't confirm or deny that last one.


In the end, my charisma, charm and pluckiness won out and we went on some dates.  I ended up ending it, rather inconsiderately.

This Dating Life: Spoiler Alert

The world wide web of dating is rife with many pitfalls: crazy people, disappointing dates, and scams to get free meals. One thing I never thought I'd have to worry about though was a woman ruining a television show for me, until I got this message, responding to many of my professed interests:

"I really wanna go to the zoo. I could watch Forgetting Sarah Marshall over and over again. I want someone to teach me how to grow a decent strawberry patch. I want someone to watch Dexter with who was just as pleased when *REDACTED*. And someone who'll bake me mac n cheese then I'd make them fried ice cream. I'd also like someone who can reach the good wine glasses on the top shelf cause I'm too short. And someone who doesn't mind that I dance in my sleep."

Sure, there are positives. Zoos are some of my favorite places to go, more so during the fall and spring when kids are in school and can't ruin the experience for me. Anyone who recognizes the genius of F.S.M. clearly has good taste. I wouldn't mind someone dancing in their sleep, cause then they might be less likely to actually want to dance with me when we're both awake. However, then she's trying to put me to work. Strawberries are easy, as they spread like a weed. And sure, I can show off how tall I am and how long my arms are, but what do I get out of this? Can I use her head as a rest of my drink, to take advantage of her height as she is of mine? Finally, WHO REVEALS INFORMATION ABOUT A SHOW WITHOUT ASKING THE PERSON WHAT SEASON THEY'RE UP TO? An insensitive, unthinking jerk, that's who. Spoiler alert: We will NOT be going on a date. Ever.

This Dating Life: Germaphobe

I've dated many, many, MANY (SO MANY) types of women thus far, but have never been involved with a germaphobe. So it was with some trepidation that I continued dating Musical Molly (codenamed for her affinity for musicals) after hearing that she was a self-ascribed germaphobe. New clothes from the store freaked her out, and she would always wash new ladies underwear before wearing it for the first time. Which I found slightly ridiculous, the wearing of underwear that is.

However, it turned out she was just a huge liar. She held hands without any problems. Opened bathroom doors without using my shirt as a barrier. Didn't carry around an industrial size bottle of Purell. And most damning of all, she would routinely pick things up the floor JUST TO SEE WHAT THEY WERE! I'm not talking about thinking there's a 20 dollar bill on a New York City street, I mean random THINGS. When called on her bluff, she would routinely explain she's not "THAT kind of germaphobe." I could understand if the things were shiny, as there's a clear correlation between shiny objects and dragons and women being interested in them, but this was a receipt, or a scrap of paper, or a homeless man's condom. Ugh, I have to go take a hot shower just thinking about it.

Professional (And Unbiased) Movie Review: The Muppets

I shall firstly emphasize how completely unbiased this movie review is, despite me wishing for nothing more than a new Muppets movie for the last 12 years. Sure, I abandoned the naive notion of world peace in favor of Kermit and the gang on the big screen in my yearly pleas to Santa Claus, but that doesn't mean I can't be objective. And sure, I own a lot of Muppets memorabilia, including (but not limited to), action figures, t-shirts, comics and artwork by the immensely talented Amy Mebberson. And yes, I grew up on the Muppet Show, Sesame Street, Muppet Babies, all the Muppet movies, Jim Henson Hour and the Muppets Tonight. And definitely, I cried a little, many years ago when I heard a rumor Jason Segal, who can do NO WRONG, was going to write the next Muppets movie. However, none of that means I can't be objective.

Upon seeing posters and subsequently commercials, I was perturbed by this "Walter" character. I mean, do we really need a new Muppet? Granted, Sweet'ums probably couldn't play the role of Jason Segal's tiny brother, but hasn't the last major Muppet introduction, Elmo, sucking at everything caused enough trauma to the youth? But I found that while watching the movie, I didn't hate the new kid as much as I thought I would.

The movie shares equal story time between the plight of the Muppets and the humans, which would seem out of place to people who watched earlier movies which used humans more sparingly. Older fans will also be slightly disappointed by altered voices, due to many of the original puppeteers missing from the movie. The plot centers around the Muppets needing to get back together to foil evil oil magnate Chris Cooper, who has easily the best thought out and funniest song in the whole movie. One song and dance number is reminiscent of the suit dance from How I Met Your Mother; in another, Flight of the Conchords' Bret McKenzie's vision shines through. It was campy and hysterical and left me clapping at the end. Amy Adams and Jason Segal were brilliant as always (see above if you don't believe me), and finally, once again, the Muppets were in theaters.

My only issues with the movie are as follows:
1. Zoot didn't get to talk. He's zany and out there and says random funny things.
2. Swedish Chef didn't get a cooking with swedish chef spot on the show.
3. While there were some pretty great guest appearances (I won't ruin them here), the movie DEFINITELY missed out by not including Andy Samberg or Bill Hader, who would be perfect in this. Bill Hader would be perfect in any movie, but I'm getting off track slightly. Andy does a great Chef, and the whole SNL cast can jump in too.
4. Back to the guest appearances, the movie also missed out by not having the whole cast of How I Met Your Mother on it, which I would have enjoyed immensely.
5. There was no Jessica Biel, and no Rihanna. It was almost like this movie wasn't made to cater to my every whim. Seriously though, no Rihanna? She could fit into the movie seamlessly and play, I don't know, let's say...my girlfriend. I'd go see that movie in a second.

That's it. Those were the only issues I could see. Hopefully everyone else realizes how great this movie was and what a great idea it is to bring back this proud franchise to weekly television (not cable please). And perhaps Jessica Alba or Justin Timberlake can make guest appearances also. Just cause.

Muppets Movie Excitement

I'm going to see the Muppets movie tomorrow. I can't even think about anything else. If it's not good, I don't know what I'll do with myself; maybe watch the entire Season 1 DVDs after it? Though I'll probably do that either way. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD I can't wait. I may not even sleep tonight. If I do, I'll definitely wear my muppets footie pajamas. F it, I'll do that either way. MUPPETS!!!!

Aquatic Big Buck Hunter

There are two things I like doing with wildlife: trying to catch them to pet them/play with them/ride them, and hunting them in video games with a shotgun at my waist, much like Doc Holliday. And running away from them if they're scary, like spiders or octopus or squid. Ok, three things. I haven't had much luck playing with any wild animals, and I've never brought my murderous spree to the real world, until...NOW!

When I was younger, I would often go fishing with my dad and sister at Kissena Pond, a small, man-made pond near Flushing, Queens. I was an excellent fisherman, and often caught double digit sunfish or crappies, using bread as bait. The fish were always returned to the water, and I'd go home content, knowing how good an outdoorsman I was, confident that the next time I'd outsmart the fish again. Unfortunately, this paradigm seemed to shift when pursuing actual fish you can eat, in real fishing places. I'm hoping it will shift back again, as I just applied for a one day fishing license in Colorado, and it was as rigorous as applying for a job.

First off, there are many, many, many hunting and fishing licenses you can apply for, some named after the animal (Wild Turkey, Mountain Lion), and some after the type, like furbearer (for small game). There's a chart on the site, showing how much a license costs per day, additional day, 5 days, week, month, or century, for residents and non residents. Once you finally get that all sorted, it's time to put in your information.

Colorado needs to know your name, date of birth, address...all the essential information you would imagine. Then they need your drivers license # and social security, which I was a bit leery of, especially after being asked if it was cool if they shared that info with their drinking and hunting buddies. Uhm. No. Not cool, actually. Finally, Colorado fishing license department whatever needed to know my height and weight (bit of a touchy subject right now), which I found quite odd. Odder still was the measurements, which started at 1 foot and went all the way up to 9. Sure, they don't want to discriminate. I was tempted to put in 9 foot, 4 inches, 400 pounds, but then thought if I caught a shark or something in the river and I wasn't allowed to, rather than send one ranger after me, they might send a battalion, and a tank. Which I'm just not physically prepared for.

This Dating Life: Misunderstanding

This story takes place approximately 2 months ago. The names have been changed...well, only her name has been changed, mine will remain, for bragging purposes. The premise is a lovely lady spent the night. I knew she was leaving for another state in a few days, for an undetermined amount of time. We engaged in relations that night, and again in the morning.

"Hey, this was a lot of fun. I'm glad we caught up, and you allowed me to sex you masterfully."

Lady: "Yes, that was quite amazing. My world has been transformed. Plus, you're ridiculously funny, and so ruggedly handsome. I can't believe I have to go to Michigan, which isn't even a fun state."

"Except for Crazy Jim's Blimpie Burgers, and their polar bear snow sculptures, you mean."

Lady: "Right, that goes without saying."

"Well, do you think you'll have time to do this again before you leave?"

Lady looks around: "Probably, but what time is it now?"

Laughter ensued as we realized the misunderstanding, followed by earthshaking and transcendental passion. The end.

This Dating Life: Silence is Golden

I've recently learned that sometimes, there are situations where things are best left unsaid. For example, if a lady is nice enough to spend the night after a fun night of comedy and beers, and then says: "I got SO drunk last night. Maybe I shouldn't have had that many beers."
The response should probably almost NEVER be: "I'm REALLY happy you got drunk last night," as that can cheapen the whole experience.

Another example might be asking a lady, whom you have a history with, if she wants coffee. She might reply that, from her memory of things, you make crappy coffee, since you don't really like it anyway. Probably a good idea not to say "I've been practicing," and then assure her the whole thing is really none of her business.

This Dating Life: The More Things Change...

After a brief 5 month hiatus from dating, due to an obstacle commonly referred to as a girlfriend, I decided to get back on the horse, so to speak, as my typical first date involves going to the OTB. The first lady lucky enough to date me was pretty cool. She was tall, at 5'10, she planned a burger crawl (much like a pub crawl, only everyone feels even more disgustingly sick afterwards) for a second date, and we seemed to be having a good time with each other without any seriousness, which was what I was looking for.

Unfortunately, she seemed to not think that just having a good time was enough, which I got from the email response she sent me out of the blue that said as much. Her words, quoted below, frustrated me, because I've heard them so frequently. I wish everyone's idea of me drowning in women was actually factual, though not in some weird, horror movie kinda way, in which I actually have my lungs filled with women, and drown. Cause that would suck. But this isn't the first time I've been told women should be beating down doors to date me, and yet it still hasn't occurred.

"I have really had a nice time on these last few dates getting to know you and I think you are a really sweet and funny dude and are probably often drowning in women or at least one day you will be...(possibly virgins if the Qu'ran ends up being correct)...but I am not really feeling it in the way I should be after three dates. And after three dates is when two people probably actually start to say non-committal things like "we are seeing each other" and I just don't want to lead you on by continuing to date you."

I tried calling and letting her know I felt the same way but had a lot of fun and we should continue to just have fun, but I don't think it's possible for a guy to say those things without them coming across like all he wants to do is sleep with the girl. Oh well, on to the next one, as that Jay-Z character says.