Nice guys approach me all the time. Nice, pleasant, dorky, it's all the same. It's like someone cloned George (the decidedly gay, kind of gumpy, pathetic intern) on "Grey's Anatomy", a.k.a.” a girl's cuddly little best sunday friend” and sent the hapless clones out in droves to try and date me, and like a sad game of Duck Hunt, it's my job to shoot them down.

It's not like I don't try to like them. I suffer through diatribes on their Mom's “Bomb-ass” Lasagna, I swill endless drinks listening to the hilarious anecdotes about fantasy football that they post on their embittered blog; I even call them back way more times that I feel fit (four days later, of course).

I mean, my Dad is a nice guy. I SHOULD like a nice guy. I should want a nice guy to take me to Olive Garden, and buy me a Tiffany's heart bracelet, and hold my hand at the movies, and tell me that I am a “super catch” (seriously, never ever say that).

Here's my conundrum. I don't like Olive Garden. I don't like any jewelry in the shape of a heart. I'm not a big hand holder, and to be honest, I just don't want your baby right now. Sorry. Nine Months without a crazy night at my dive bar doing shots and making out in corners with the waitstaff is something I still see in my future. I'm sure some mothers-to-be do both, but you gotta draw the line somewhere. Moral ground often comes in like the tide.

If you want this, ALL THIS, I'll tell you exactly what you need to do. Just tell me that I'm fat.

If a guy that reads this website actually KNOWS the definition of “subtle”, then hoo-rah; if not, get your Google ready! I'm not saying that you should go out and just say “Hey, hot girl, you're looking kind of fat tonight!” Subtleness in this situation is a fine art, and will definetly deliver the insecure-on-the-inside, faking-it-on-the-outside, POON.

Personally, I seem to react exceptionally well to being approached by a guy who draws in my drunken interest and then makes me feel like Delta Burke in a room of Angelina Jolie's.

These maternity pants have an extra pouch for my rolling papers!

Here's a few ways to score like the asshole you really are.

“Dude, (tall hot girl), it's so weird being with someone so tall. I mean, I always date girls not taller than 5 deuce. I mean, it's cool though, you know...”

If she starts slouching and all of a sudden forgets she ever had a high-heel, you are in, bro. Change it up for the short girl and make sure to talk about this chick from college that you banged/dated for a while who went on to be a runway model, and how it's so weird not to be at eye-level with a chick. Stripper heels, here you come, you asshole!

“Hey (chick you're trying to bang), I think my mom has those pants, how weird is that. I mean, they totally look good on you, but what a weird coincidence.”

Basically, you just told some chick that she shops at Dress Barn. She will make a concerted effort to open those Barn Doors, and show you what's going on under those pants. You'll be bringing the bacon home tonight, player.

The secret way to score.

“You know what (hot-girl on the outside/fat-girl on the inside), has anyone told ever told you that you look like Kate Winslet in Titantic?”

Leave it at that. She will have sex with you in the bathroom of the bar. The Men's bathroom.

I just want you to rip through my self-esteem like you are crushing some mad weight at the gym. It may drive me and my friends crazy, but it's the only thing that lights this little fire on the inside that I like to call my monkey. And then I go home and cry myself to sleep! Thanks for that.