That Oblivious Casanova Guy

Congratulations, Mr. Oblivious Casanova Guy. While most of the shit-sucking wastes of life featured on this site do nothing but make me wanna curbstomp infants, you actually manage to make me laugh and entertain me. No one's quite sure how you ever got the idea, but at some point in your life you decided that you were (insert deity)'s gift to women. And despite the astronomical number of girls you manage to take home(zero), you've never swayed in this opinion of yourself. I'd suggest taking a step back and looking at yourself, but you'd probably become enamored and start masturbating to your visage.

The Casanova isn't a difficult guy to spot. Just scan your surrounding area for the hottest group of girls, and within moments he'll be slinking up to them, ready to work some of that foolproof charm he's got. Do you know how it feels when you're extremely exhausted and dehydrated, and just want to drink something cold? So you pour yourself a cold glass of milk because it's the only thing in the fridge. And first there's that moment of refreshment, the look of relief on your face as you feel your body being recharged. But a split second later, you realize that the milk's gone bad and your expression contorts so much it looks like something out of the Kama Sutra. That is what happens to a woman when she realizes that this sad sack is talking to her. She'd already noticed his presence in the bar/restaurant/etc, because like men, women scout an area when they enter. Within 3 seconds of walking into a room, everyone has been given a mental rank and rating, and the Casanova's wasn't anything to write home about. But when she sees him moving in her direction, and realizes that he is actually going to attempt to hit on her? You can't fake that kind of distress. I'm fully convinced that OJ Simpson could pull up in a white Bronco offering a ride, and she'd take it in a heartbeat just to get away from this delusional creep.

How's this all play out in his mind? "Maybe I came on too strong...must've intimidated her with these rugged looks." Yea, I'm sure that the sight of your 5 ft 3 in frame and meticulously combed jewfro drove her so far up the wall she had to leave before she creamed herself right then and there. It definitely didn't have anything to do with the Bud Light in your hand(a sure sign of a fucking moron) or the half bottle of cologne that you willingly bathe yourself in on a daily basis. No, these chicks just couldn't keep their composure around such a stallion.But hey, that won't dissuade you. Nope, you'll just spin that visor around and head to the next flock, trying a much smoother approach that's guaranteed to work. Wait, did I say smooth? I meant to say you'd use some crappy pickup line like "It must've hurt when you fell from heaven" and then assume that their silence means they're in awe of your poetic mastery. I don't know if there's anyone in existence that has an attempt-to-failure ratio like you. But in truth sir, I salute you. Because fine folks like yourself make me look God-like in comparison. You keep on popping that collar; the world loves you, they just don't know it yet.