So last Friday I picked up my daughter from school. As we were leaving the grounds  she turned to meet my face, rolled her eyes and said “Oh here we go”, pointing to a boy approaching us. He stammered as he said, “Bye and have a great weekend. Oh, is this your dad? Hi. Ummm, errr, well I can see where you get your good looks from.”

I smiled politely as she said her cordial good-bye to him, but my smile turned into a chuckle as we approached the car. My daughter asked me, “So, you got it too, then?” I relied with, “Got what?”

“The gay vibe.”

“Oh yeah,” I laughed.

Rule number one, boys. If you want to impress a girl, don’t compliment her father’s looks. Reserve that for her mum. As far as I can tell, women only like their boyfriends to be slightly gay once they’re in their twenties.

You don’t speak any English? Like, what the fuck?

So you’re from Haiti. That’s got all that voodoo shit, yeah? Well that kinda explains that, umm, thing, uh, on your , err, face, there.

You have sister? Is she cute? Is she here?

Okay you can come up, but only for an hour, okay? I’m not paying for no twin share.

Whoa, what was that? Was that you? No, wait. That was me.

Shit. It’s not working. Oh, hang on. It’s inside out.

I’m done. Your turn.

No, I’m too sleepy.

I gave you twenty bucks for a taxi. I don’t have more just for you.

Who took my fucking passport?

Okay, so I’m like so in LA right now, and soaking up it’s awesomeness. I got photos on Facebook. There was one sight I could not bear to photograph, Muscle beach. Picture this: (a) open air gym; (b) only one guy in the gym; (c) said guy has more muscle in his ear than I have in my entire body; (d) said guy wearing less clothing on his body than I’m wearing on my head; (e) said clothing used to carry his iPod.

If ever I could accused of approximating a mid-life crisis, I can now say that crisis is successfully averted. I’ve seen LA and I embrace my lack of coolness.

Sometimes I think my daughter would make a fantastic fundamentalist Christian.

Beautiful Girl: “Dad, you like boys?”

Dad: “Err, yes, honey, I do.”

BG: “Right.”

Dad: “So… why ask?”

BG: “Well, I was wondering….”

Dad: “You can ask me anything, sweetheart. Go ahead.”

BG: “Who do you like better, Edward or Jacob?”

Dad: “Oh man, I thought you were going to ask me something serious.”

BG: “This is serious.”

Dad: “I don’t really like either of them. They’re both too young for me.”

BG: “What?”

Dad: “I’m old enough to be their dad, you know. I’m really not attracted to boys that young.”

BG: “I don’t get it.”

Dad: “You know, Bella’s dad?”

BG: “Eww, yeah. He’s mean.”

Dad: “He’s cute.”

BG: “Oh that’s disgusting. And I just don’t accept that.”

Dad: “I beg your pardon?”

BG: “You have to like either Edward or Jacob.”

Dad: “Why?”

BG: “That’s just the way it is.”

1. Exercise.
   There’s nothing better than getting in touch with your body when you’re feeling low. I enjoy going for a run. For that extra resistance, I knock out my ex with some rohypnol, take off his clothes, and drag him along behind me.
2. Remember that drugs and porn don’t work.
   They have, however, earned me enough money to get a good therapist.
3. Kick a puppy.
4. Don’t slut it out of your system.
   That’s just offensive to sluts and takes the fun out of being a slut for its own sake.
5. Hug a friend.
   Some of my friends have massive knockers. I can convince them I’m depressed enough, and gay enough, that they let me cry into their cleavage. A real good sob leads to that wet and warm feeling.
6. Write a list of all the things you can do now that you’re single.
   For example: Lee, Michael, Sarah, Ramon, Jeremy, Stuart and Michelle, and then on Monday, Alexis, Hoa, Pedro and that guy who sells coffee outside Melbourne Central station.
7. Remind yourself of your own worth.
   $150 in-calls, $250 out-calls.
8. Consider it an opportunity for growth.
   Tell the story of your broken heart to your children every night. Add a moral to the story, so that your experiences will help them grow as people. The moral I like to use is, “Don’t have kids.”