By Emma Silvers
By Gary Moskowitz
By Alee Karim
By Ian S. Port
By Ian S. Port
By Derek Opperman
By Emma Silvers
By Alee Karim
The problem: Indie slicksters, practically by definition, do not get much slick. You know, action. Thus, the question: How, oh how, to fix this? Which led to: Well, shit. If anyone can help them it's Eugene Robinson, the hulking, skulking, ultimate-fighting frontman for the crush-kill-destroy band Oxbow (www.theoxbow.com) who just happens to also be senior editor for a porn site -- www.skullgame.com. Luckily, Robinson agreed, so without further ado, we give you ...
Eugene Robinson's Guide to Getting Laid
Oh yeah. It's rocket-ride time and you are primed:
Your eyes meet across a room. The plangent strains of strummed acoustic sensitivity filter in over the bowed heads of the sparse crowd of 12 anchorites of angst at, say, a house party. All gathered around a broken refrigerator in the kitchen listening to Guided by Voices. Or Fountains of Wayne. Or Fugazi. Or Mogwai. Or any of a passel of these pioneers of sexless surrender. You scuffle a bit, mumbling something about anime and it feels just like it does when everything starts to suck at the same time and you sense inevitably that THE MOMENT HAS PASSED and "I really like Japanese comics," though perhaps true, does little for your prospects.
The party peters out at midnight when people start scattering, one at a time, to go home and do something almost as meaningful as attending dispiriting party after dispiriting party: They grimly masturbate.
Well, I'm going to rescue you from all of that rainy-day maundering, all of that Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne(or Morrissey) crap. Yes, I'm going to teach you how to exercise your biological imperative with relative impunity. Again and again. Twice on Sundays.
No. 1: Be ME. As unlikely as this might sound, if you were ME, arguably the World's Most Handsome Man, it would all be so much, um, easier.
Since being ME violates several of the -- what the hell is it? The 13 laws of thermodynamics or whatever -- then you need to do whatever you can do to get YOU as close as humanly possible to being ME without skinning me and inhabiting my remaining husk whilst ensconced in your farmhouse in Wisconsin. I'm talking here about FASHION.
No. 1-A: No wallets on chains. Wallets imply that you will be spending cash. If you're like me, you have no cash to spend. Potential sex partners find this Ratso Rizzo man-on-the-brink bit VERY attractive.
No. 1-B: No trucker hats. While you might make that all-too-common connection between trucking and sodomy, and anything that connects anything to sodomy might help you get laid, trucker hats just imply that you read fashion magazines. And the fact that we're even discussing such rags means that right now people who are not YOU are screwing. And laughing. And screwing while laughing at YOU.
No. 1-C: Carry a briefcase. Perhaps a cane. Throw in a monocle if you must. These items are timeless tickets to the ancient Chinese art of REVERSE RIDICULE (don't ask ... you're not ready for this yet).
No. 2: Fight. That's right, fight. Fist fight, cat fight, street fight, whatever. You show me a person who's not gotten an ass-kicking and I'll show you someone who desperately needs an ass-kicking. It's sexy. In fact nothing says sexy LIKE fighting. An acceptable substitute here is ARGUING. Acceptable, as it frequently leads to fighting. And above all it shows that you are ENGAGED in the grand pageantry of life around you. You are a WATCHER and a DOER.
No. 3: Avoid Loser Music. Do not under any circumstance continue listening to music made by musicians who don't have sex. This might radically change your listening habits -- you'll need to start favoring Whitney Houston, George Michael, and Pink over, oh, just about every metal band in the world, or Matthew Sweet, or DJ Spooky. And stop your mewling as it's highly unlikely you were going to even pay for that music anyway and that brings us to ...
No. 4: Steal. Oh, nothing of any real value. My preferred objet de felony is toilet paper. From airport toilet stalls. Nothing says insouciance like a person who steals. Shiny string, cars, prescription medications -- this has postmodern cool writ large all over it like some freakin' Justin Timberlake poster on your bathroom wall.
No. 5: Get Pilled. Did we mention prescription medication? I was at Max's Kansas City in 1978 and watched Sid Vicious fall down an entire flight of stairs moments before being helped by none other than the soon-to-be-tragically-stabbed sexpot Nancy Spungen. There's just something about someone who's pilled to the gills -- call it accessibility -- that makes them restraining-order-violatingly irresistible. Suggested pills? Anything hard to pronounce and European.
No. 6: Cuckold. Hit on all of your friends' lovers. If your friends are not helping you get laid then they really aren't friends, are they? If caught or cornered, blame the medication (see No. 5).
No. 7: Wear Dinner Plate - Sized Medallions. They're making a comeback. You heard it here first.
No. 8. Stand Next to ME. Get the best-looking person you know to hang out with you. Reflected glory can be, well, glorious. If you don't know anyone better looking than you, then you aren't looking very hard. E-mail me, since I am most assuredly better looking than YOU, and I will hang out with you (email@example.com).