hostage situations’s Better Than’s First Date Tips

eHarmony has a list of ten tips for initiating, planning, and surviving a first date. It’s a bad list, full of “no doi” pointers. “Be confident.” “Dress to impress.” “Breathe occasionally.” “Apply pressure to fresh wounds.” I’ve been on a few first dates, and I’ve compiled the following list of better than eHarmony tips. In fact, that’s what it’s called:’s Better Than’s First Date Tips.

The water conundrum. Pop quiz hotshot – the waiter asked if you want bottled or tap water. If you spring for the bottled water, it shows that money is no object on this, your enchanted first date. If you go with tap water it shows that you’re an eco-conscious everyman with a sense of adventure. Here’s an advanced technique: stare the waiter dead in the eyes and say, “Half tap. Half bottled.” The music stops, silverware crashes, old Victorian-era women are fanning themselves and gasping and passing out all around you. This date is off to a great start, and by the way, you look lovely this evening.

"... look, I'm sorry if you were offended when I said your Etsy store sounds like a bunch of pandering horseshit."

“… look, I’m sorry if you were offended when I said your Etsy store sounds like a bunch of pandering horseshit.”

Ordering for your date. Ordering for your date is an antiquated practice, so you should avoid doing it. It gives the impression that she is maybe too stupid to read, or understand how side dishes work. The only time it’s customary to order for your date is if you’re at a drive up window. “Yes, I’ll have a number 3, and the little lady will have something of equal or lesser value because it’s Tuesday before 6 pm and I have a coupon. Also hurry the fuck up, it’s our first date over here.” She’ll be impressed because you’re a man that can handle finances, and your collection of ketchup packets and ants in the glove compartment really speaks for itself.

Phrases to Avoid. Words are hard sometimes. Review the following list of phrases to avoid.

  • Your job sounds boring as shit, I bet I could do it like a million times better though.

  • What’s your favorite Aryan subreddit?

  • Would it be ok if I got a booster seat for my taxidermied owl?

  • I keep my pistol in a hollowed out bible, and my bullets in the hollowed out skulls of my online haters.

The Leftovers. Avoid asking to take your date’s leftovers home with you. Muttering, “because I fucking paid for this bullshit” under your breath is not going to help your case. However, if you insist on taking the leftovers home, ask your waiter to box it up for you, avoid pulling a ziplock bag out of your pants pocket. God forbid you accidentally pull out your baggie full of toenail clippings. This should really have its own section, but if you do accidentally pull out your baggie full of toenail clippings, just say you’re holding it for a friend.

Ending on a high note. Congratulations, the date is now over. Much like the survivors of a horrible plane crash, it is customary to hug your date once complete. Really get in there, see what you’re working with. Three gentle kisses on the forehead followed by a handwritten letter thanking her for her time, and you’re now free to go home to your darkened hovel and text her every couple of minutes to make sure she’s ok. If you followed all of my advice, you’re probably well on your way to marriage. Please do not invite me, my dress shoes are very tight and make it difficult for me to dance. Thank you.

You can watch me scream and yell all of my recent posts on AwesomeTalk! It airs every other Tuesday on our YouTube channel, where you can also find past episodes and other psychotic vlog vids.

The C.O.B.R.A. Retrieval System

A deadly cobra is missing from the Bronx Zoo and you’re the only one who can find it! This is not a choose your own adventure book, but if it was, here are your options – on page 72 you find the cobra, battle it, and the cobra rues the day it ever attempted to escape. On page 153 it kills you and cobras take over the fucking world. That’s it! It’s a pretty lengthy book considering there are only two possible outcomes, but these are the stakes when fighting deadly snakes. Thankfully, there is a foolproof system in place to ensure your victory over the snake kingdom phylum class subgenre, outlined by this simple acrostic: 

The C.O.B.R.A. Retrieval System
C – Consider your options.
O – Observe the area.
B – Bite back.
R – Repeat the previous step.
A – (call an) Ambulance.

Let’s “break it down” ala Stop, Hammer Times:


C – Consider your options. Look, maybe the snake isn’t really missing ok? I swear to god he was here a minute ago… no, you know what, he’s right ther- no, shit that’s a leaf. OK OK OK, think think think, he doesn’t have any legs so he probably didn’t get very far, right? I am so screwed. I am SO SCREWED. Let me retrace my steps – ok I was in the closet getting the snake chow, then I opened the tank to drop in the snake chow, then my phone rang, and I dropped it into the tank and then… oh shit my phone’s gone too! Are you kidding me? Are you fucking serious right now? If that snake took my phone I am going to be so pissed. DO YOU HEAR ME SNAKE?! SO. PISSED.

O – Observe the area. By this point, you’re fairly certain that the cobra is on the loose, possibly with an iPhone 3GS. You’re like 60% positive it didn’t leave the reptile house because it’s unseasonably cold in the Bronx right now, so you round up some of your buddies to secure the perimeter. Because that sounds pretty awesome, and what friend wouldn’t be like HELL YEAH if you asked them to secure a perimeter? No friend wouldn’t do that. At this point, we’re going to make a fairly huge assumption for the sake of the acrostic – you found the snake, and armed with a butterfly net and a hammer, you’ve got that sonofabitch cornered.

B – Bite back. And of course the thing bites you. You tell your friends to abandon their perimeter posts and run for their lives and then you assess the situation. You’ve got about ten minutes before you lose sensation in your limbs, so it’s time to act with your most important limb – your mouth. BITE IT BACK! You’ve got the venom inside you now, and cobras are deathly allergic to cobra venom. The venom is going to be dripping out of your canine teeth, but just to be safe, just get as much of the cobra into your mouth as possible and with a chewing motion, chew the shit out of the snake’s head. Really get in there like RARRRGHHHH. The venom in your system will act as an anti-venom in case the thing gets smart and tries to bite you again while it’s inside your mouth.

R- Repeat the previous step. Things are going to stop making sense around the sixth minute of your attack. The skin around the bite will be reaching an advanced stage of necrosis, and while your lungs will still be functioning, they’re going to feel both on fire and flooded with a cold inexplicable liquid. The earth will be spinning faster than ever before and the faces of your loved ones will pass before your lifeless, vacant eyes, all hissing and flicking their tongues at you. Embracing death’s warm embrace will feel like your number one priority right now. This is totally normal, but NOT an excuse to stop. Continue biting until you reach bone.

A – (call an) Ambulance. If you’ve followed the C.O.B.R.A. Retrieval System to the letter, the escaped cobra will be subdued and looking groggy. You’ve saved the day and, wait a second, your phone was in your pocket this whole time! You mistook it for a tin of Altoids. With your last remaining seconds of consciousness, it’s time to call an ambulance. When they ask for your name, reply (your name), Cobra Commander. They’ll handle the rest. The cobra, embarrassed and stupid, will crawl back into its tank, close the lid and rue the day it ever attempted to escape in the first place. Rue the day, sweet cobra. Rue the day. Sweet cobra.

Other sites would use this final paragraph to drop a disclaimer, like, this information is for entertainment purposes only, and any living, fictional or dead cobras will probably kill you if you perform any of the actions above. But not here. I stand by the C.O.B.R.A. Retrieval System 100%, and I guarantee that you’ll successfully find, fight and fucking decimate any cobra that you see by following this scientifically proven system. Did you know that if you pay a snake wrangler enough money, they’ll say literally anything you put in front of them? Just ask snake wrangler and world’s leading cobra puncher Jeffrey Trombonés, who says, “C.O.B.R.A. R.O.C.K.S. (Readily Obliterates Cobra King of Snakes) dude!” Seriously ask yourself, why would Jeffrey put his exceedingly awesome name and reputation on the line?

Twangy Wacky Country Music Presents: ODDLY ENOUGH

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been updating the site every Tuesday and Friday! Yes, congratulate me, thanks so much. And the site is picking up steam! All without mentioning “Charlie Sheen tiger blood winning breakdowns #teamsheen,” “hot lolita springbreak fuck adventures” or “iPad 2 specs unboxing Steve Jobs death grip.” None of those hit-generating phrases were mentioned, and they never will. This week, let’s take a look at some of the stories that haven’t been getting as much play – let’s mine Reuters’ Oddly Enough for content and feel great about ourselves.

If this was a news magazine show, this first story would come fully equipped with twangy “this is wacky” country music. The kind of music that’s usually associated with crazy Christians handing out doomsday tracts to cosplaying pirates, or an exposé of an old tyme general store that sells nothing but antique whoopie cushions. Oh ho ho, people sure are dumb and this “aw shucks” diddy should really drive that point home.

Why is this headline asking a question when it clearly has all of its facts straight? Man Speeds With Wife on Hood of Minivan? Yes. Fact. Man speeds with wife on hood of minivan. Have some confidence in your reporting Reuters Oddly Enough, you’re doing great. We’ve all been here – living in Manteca, smoking some meth on a Saturday morning, wife is bitching about something or other (ooh, go pick up some sea salt from Trader Joe’s even though we have a full canister of regular salt just sitting in the pantry, ah duh duh duh). You know what? I’m Christopher Carroll, 36, and I’ve got things to do, and none of those things involves purchasing exorbitant salts for my wife. And now we’re fighting.

Oddly enough, this horse owns 90% of the tri-state area. CRAZY RIGHT?

Now again, if this was a news magazine show (a classy one like Hard Copy or A Current Affair), the twangy country music would kick into high gear once the reenactress playing Christopher Carroll’s wife climbed onto the hood of the minivan. Like, overalls with no shirt underneath, blowing into a brown jug marked XXX, spitting chewing tobaccee into a rusty Folgers can levels of twang. Yee-hawwwww, we’re goin’ for a ride darlin’! A 40 mile ride at speeds of up to 100 miles per hour with your wife clinging to the hood of a minivan, Death Proof style, and you’ve smoked as much meth as Tarantino has snorted coke this morning. I did some detective work of my own and verified that Manteca, CA really is 40 miles from Pleasanton, CA, where Christopher’s wife finally rolled off the hood. Thankfully no one was hurt becau- twang-a-lang doopity-doot-doot-twang faaaaaart.

California Woman Sues After Slipping on a Banana Peel. This happens every few years, right? Some old Looney Toons comedic staple happens in real life, like an Acme safe falls 100 stories and liquefies a pedestrian, or a man sees an attractive woman and his heart literally pounds itself out of his rib cage, grows angel wings and flies up to heaven. Banana peels can be just as deadly. Just ask Ida Valentine, 58, who was minding her own business at her local 99 cent store when all of a sudden whoooa-whoooa-whoooa, arms flailing backwards CRASH into a shelf of leaking Duracille batteries and expired baby food.

Now she’s going to sue the everloving shit out of the 99 cent store, Chiquita, and gravity to the tune of $ALLTHEMONEYINTHEWORLD.99. And she’ll probably win because, your honor, if it pleases the court, we’re going to play a few rounds of Mario Kart. And we’re going to PROVE, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ida’s experience at the 99 Cents Only store is not an isolated incident, as seen here at the Coconut Mall, Rainbow Road and even the lowly Luigi Circuit. Bananas littering the roads; karts (sic), motorcycles and adorable dinosaurs spinning out of control and sometimes into oncoming traffic. When asked for comment, Ida Valentine’s lawyer replied, “It’s bullshit that whoever’s in first place gets stuck with bananas and green shells while the rest of the losers tied for 12th place get blue shells and lightning bolts. Nevertheless, despite these unlawful circumstances, I’ma gonna weeeeeen!”

Hidden Kafka Papers Revealed to Israeli Court. According to the giant byline, “Writings by Franz Kafka and his friend Max Brod which have been hidden away for decades have been brought to light at an Israeli court and could reveal more on the life of one of the 20th century’s greatest authors.” After visiting the Franz Kafka Museum in Prague last year, I’m totally okay with knowing less about the life of one of the 20th century’s greatest authors. The first few rooms of the museum were pretty typical – newspaper clippings and photos documenting Kafka’s life in Prague. A few rooms later you’re walking down a stairway into hell, featuring rooms filled with oversized filing cabinets and telephones that never stop ringing (Kafka didn’t love his office job). There’s a circular room in the middle of the basement that you can peer into through small slits and watch a film of skin being slit over and over. Oh, and a tiny model of a man being crushed in a vice. It’s like walking through Eraserhead’s apartment. When you finally reach daylight, there are two statues standing in front of the museum – men facing each other, peeing into a pool with rotating hips. Here’s a video walkthrough (not mine).

Will these hidden papers add another wing to the museum? Maybe there can be a dark room where a gun is held to your head while you watch 8mm abortion documentaries. Or they could build a planetarium where the night sky is ripped in half by a half man half insect that descends from the roof and flicks your ear for an hour, vomits on you and then eats your skin. Way to go Kafka! Your museum is batshit fucking crazy.

@WillieShats – fell down well, save my life lmao

Technology has the power to save lives. Remember William Shatner Presents: Rescue 911? The premise of the show was that normal, everyday folks would need rescuing (because they’re trapped under ice, their car stalled in the middle of a monster truck rally, or they’re flattened under an avalanche of dish detergent), and through the powers of telephony, a police officer (played by William Shatner) would Rescue 911 them. The most advanced piece of technology on the show was a rotary telephone – a live operator would actually speak to the person in need of rescue and be like, “Do you know where you are? Can you give me the coordinates of the bear that stole your baby? I NEED YOU TO STAY CALM MA’AM.”

Rescue 911 probably still exists in one form or another for normal people. But people that actually matter, namely celebrities and celebratants, don’t know how to dial numbers on their phone when they’re in trouble. Thankfully, Foursquare and Twitter, two of the most powerful Webintosh 2.0 HTML5++ technologies known to man, are like Rescue 911 (and its spin-off, Rescue 227) for the Hollywood elite.

Saving you with my poignant status updates.

The bass player from 30 Seconds to Mars scalded himself on a latte. That part of your hand between your thumb and pointer finger. NO! HIS GOLDEN HAND MUST BE SAVED. In the late 80’s, he’d have to find a pay phone, dial R-E-S-C-U-E-9-1-1 with his good hand and wait days for an ambulance to take him to the hospital. But this is 2010 – he checks into Starbucks via Foursquare then posts “@JaredLeto ouch just brunt myslf at strbcks gonna sue these fucks lmao” on Twitter. Thirty seconds to Mars later, Jared Leto blasts through the front of the Starbucks on a golden motorcycle which grows wings and whisks the bass player to safety. The music industry is saved thanks to Twitter, Foursquare and, to a lesser extent, Jared Leto’s golden motorcycle that grows wings for some reason.

Don’t you see? Social media saved his goddamn life! You thought Foursquare merely provided a way to virtually watch Paul Reubens eat a sandwich, but it’s so much more. Take this extremely real set of circumstances, for example – sketch comic extraordinaire Chris Kattan is eating lunch with a celebrity gal-pal at Spago. I can’t say who the gal pal is, but I’ll give you a hint – Cheri Oteri, probably. Anyway, they’re enjoying their appetizer (Dungeness Crab Raviolini – kind of a small portion for two, but they were saving room for their entree) when A HOSTAGE SITUATION BREAKS THE FUCK OUT. Thanks to Twitter, we can recreate the events of that horrifying afternoon –

chriskattan: Having lunch with a very special friend @ Spago. Talking about the good ol’ days! You canna toucha the Mango lolololololololo
chriskattan: Ummmmmmmmmm… a bus boy is getting really loud with Josh Hartnett a few tables over. Everyones staring awkwaaaaaaaaaard
chriskattan: OMG he just punched Josh Hartnett in the face! Check please LMAO. I’ll be taking my lunch TO GO, Wolfgang! ;)
chriskattan: Wait, now a bunch of other bus boys have barricaded the doors and they’re making demands. Only in Beverly Hills!
chriskattan: WHOA they just shot the hostess! All of my KattanFans – please BBM the police. Check my foursquare for the address (also, add me!)
chriskattan: @WillFerrell it’s been a while, but you’re not gonna believe the day I’m having. Night @ Roxbury 2 might not be happening. FML
chriskattan: POLICE ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
chriskattan: Situation defused. Very special thanks to the Beverly Hills police and all of my KattanFans!! Gonna go home and watch “the mask” Somebody st
chriskattan: op me!

Someday, real people like you and me will have heavily followed Twitters, Foursquares, and ApplePings. Then, our adoring fans will pamper us and call the police when we’re in trouble and give to our important charities. Maybe someday I will personally save your life if you star in one of my favorite movies or write my favorite song!