USEFUL WINGMAN: HOW TO ACTUALLY PRONOUNCE THAT SCOTCH YOU ORDERED.

scotch

Because the folks at Esquire don’t want you to sound like a jackass when talking about booze – and neither do I – they compiled one of the most utilitarian things Miss Wingman has seen in a long time: a guide to pronouncing those tricky scotch names, complete with instructional videos.

(*Let it also be said that Miss Wingman doesn’t want you to look like, dress like, or behave like a jackass as a result of drinking too much booze, either. But that’s a whole other set of rules for a different time.)

Sure, it can be tricky figuring out how where to put the emphasis when you’re saying a brand like “Balvenie” (hint: BAL-venie), or “Glenmorangie” (Glen-MOR-angie), but if you’re having trouble pronouncing “Highland Park,” I think it might be time to cut yourself off.

Granted, not all men drink scotch. Not all men like wagyu kobe beef or C-cups, either. I get it. It’s a matter of taste, and if you want to be un-American, that’s on you, bro. But if you do have a penchant for a smoky single malt or a 15-year blended, it behooves you to at least know how to say it.

Just don’t be the dude who calls out the notes in his drink. Using words like “peaty” and “robust” will immediately make us lose whatever the female version of a hard on is for you, because ‘douchelord’ isn’t sexy. But still, what you drink says a lot about who you are as a person. So at the very least, let who you are be a guy who knows how to pronounce “An Cnoc.” And “Caol Ila.” And for god’s sake, “Laphroaig.” The bartender (and your date) will thank you for it.ETIQUETTE WINGMAN

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WHAT IT’S LIKE TO DATE IN NYC. BASICALLY.

Because someone out there understands the struggle – and has way, way more time on their hands than I do – this video parody of the Tinder dating app has just surfaced. (Also, if you didn’t know what Tinder was without the description, what the eff are you doing on this site?)

While I have little doubt that the people who made this gem will get it picked up as a series, I have even less doubt that dudes like “Trent,” the human embodiment of Goldman fin-ANCE smugness, will ever cease to exist in Manhattan. I know guys like him. I’ve dated guys like him. Hell, make that five.

Never has their been a more spot on representation of the gaping self awareness chasm between people who are on a date where one person thinks it’s going well, and the other person is wondering if their butter knife is sharp enough to open up a vein.

I have so many favorite lines in this (“Now, is that volunteer?”/ “Honestly, I just assumed they had a separate Timber for each borough”/ “It’s like watching a water bed, ughh”), but you can choose your own. It’s pretty long (that’s what she said), but so worth the watch.THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

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SPOON US, GODDAMN IT. SCIENCE SAYS SO.

Onedirectionprefss Tumblr

Onedirectionprefss Tumblr

Because nothing’s more appealing than waking up with “dead arm” or peeling her face off of your sweaty chest, now you have even more reason to spoon your woman while you sleep. Or at least, be forced to sleep in some cuddle-like formation. Why? Because science, duh.

Researchers at the University of Hertfordshire (admit it, it sounds way more sophisticated than where you went to school) surveyed 1,000 couples about their sleeping positions, and what they found was that 94% of couples who slept touching one another were happy in their relationships, while a measly 68% of couples who didn’t sleep touching each other reported being satisfied in their relationships.

What’s more, of the couples who said they sleep with less than an inch separation from their partner, 86% of them said they were happy, while only 66% of couples who admitted to sleeping “more than 30 inches from their partner” reported being happy in their relationships.

So basically, spoon us, motherf*%#ers. Or else.

What’s so compelling about this study, other than the fact that way too many people are sleeping with nearly 3 feet between them – seriously, is one of you in a loft? are there bunkbeds? please explain – is that the most popular sleeping position for couples is back to back.

Granted, Miss Wingman doesn’t have a PhD in behavioral science, but maybe this is part of the reason why so many marriages end in divorce. As someone who has been in a past relationship where my partner literally did not acknowledge my physical presence while we slept, I can attest to the physical-distance-to-emotional-distance correlation. When the person you share a bed with doesn’t even throw the occasional arm over you or pull you in close, it makes you feel cold – in a way that pulling the covers up around you won’t fix.

So even though I’ve extolled the virtues of not cuddling us too much before (seriously, there’s a fine line between affection and neediness), allow me to make one caveat – especially while you sleep. Or wake up. Morning sex is pretty stellar, too (so I hear, in case you’re reading this, Mom).

Best case scenario, it ends in a little unexpected romp. Worst case, she complains about you poking her in the back. Either way, it doesn’t require much of you to just reach out.

If you’re lucky enough to be sleeping next to someone you care about, who may or may not be naked in case you need an added incentive, you’re luckier than you think. And your touch could be more meaningful than you think, too. Then you can rest easy knowing that your partner feels really, really loved.GEEK WINGMAN

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THE 10 SELFIES WOMEN HATE MOST.

Photo credit: mikkejohannes

Photo credit: mikkejohannes

10. All of them.

9. All of them.

8. Seriously, not even if you’re standing atop Everest. 

7. The Car Selfie. Creepiest. Thing. Ever. Additional points deducted for forgetting to unbuckle your seatbelt, bro.

6. The Bathroom Mirror Selfie. Really? The least you could do is close the shower curtain.

5. All of them.

4. The Hotel Room Selfie. Just curious, what part of your business stay at the Doubletree in Cleveland did you feel was particularly sexy?

3. The Gym Selfie. No need to hammer home the fact that you spend all your free time getting your swole on. Having traps bigger than Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s sorta tipped us off already.

2. All of them. The fuck’s wrong with you?

1. The After Sex Selfie. Congratulations, whoever came up with the Instagram hashtag “#aftersex.” You’ve just surpassed The Westboro Baptist Church’s Fred Phelps and anyone with the last name Kardashian on my Most Hated List! FYI, snapping a picture of your post-coital self is the photo equivalent of TMI. Thanks for the trauma, gross couples of the Internet (and lonely dudes who tag their right hands).

Now find a new hobby.THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

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HERE’S HOW MUCH IT COSTS TO PROPOSE REALLY, REALLY UNORIGINALLY.

BaseballProposal

Happy MLB Opening Day, Wingman faithful! Since this day makes me almost as giddy as March Madness at large, and since everyone’s brackets have long since been shot to hell anyway, I thought I’d shift my focus to America’s favorite pastime. No, not baseball – proposing at a baseball game.

Because every girl dreams of the most romantic moment of her life being staged at a place where your feet stick to the floor and the line for the ladies room is roughly 45 women deep. Naturally.

Even though Miss Wingman has extolled the virtues of how NOT to propose before (many times), if you absolutely must ignore my advice and put a ring on it during the 7th inning stretch, the folks at Swimmingly have broken down how much it will cost you to pop the question at every major league baseball stadium.

I know it’s called a baseball diamond, people, but perhaps we’re taking it a little too literally here.

Prices for a major league proposal range from $38.50 at the Pittsburgh Pirates’ PNC Park (not surprising, since Pittsburgh is pretty much the Keystone Light of baseball franchises), to $2,500 at Dodger Stadium or a $1,500 package offered by the Washington Nationals, who’re keeping the tradition alive of our nation’s capital absolutely screwing people, financially or otherwise. Keep it classy, L.A. And D.C. fans, may I suggest a Caps game instead…

Unless you and your beloved have some deep sentimental connection to the ball field, I fail to see how a supremely unoriginal proposal idea is worth any amount of money. But if you’re an Orioles, Royals, Blue Jays, Angels or Mets fan, you needn’t worry about it anyway, because proposals aren’t even offered on your home field.

Then again, if you’re a Mets fan, you’ve probably got bigger things to worry about. It would’ve been nice to see someone NOT strike out in your stadium for once, though. Maybe next year.GEEK WINGMAN

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THE APP GUARANTEED TO RUIN YOUR RELATIONSHIP, BRO.

Hate your relationship? Want to send your girl the message that you just. can’t. be. bothered? You’re in luck! There’s an app for that.

Thanks to some dudes in Australia, the dating app bar has just been lowered. Like, really lowered. Introducing BroApp, which promises to auto text your girlfriend for you, so that you can go out with the other Terribles and not have to worry about checking in with the ol’ ball and chain. And you thought dating couldn’t get any easier.

So how does it work? Bros enter their girlfriend’s contact info into the app, then they can either write a series of texts or choose from a default list of 12 messages (really personal, not-at-all-generic ones like, “Hi babe, how was your day?”), and then schedule them to be sent out on a specific day.

BroApp chooses the time that the texts are sent, and recognizes when you’ve recently messaged your girlfriend a non-completely bullshit composition of your own, in which case it waits to dispatch the next one.

And here I thought outsourcing your marriage proposal was the douchiest thing you could do.

Because the Brisbane-based developers have your back, the app not only recognizes your girlfriend’s Wi-Fi network so scheduled texts won’t be sent while you’re at her place, but it also prevents her from using the app herself.

BroApp

If she tries, it’ll bring up a “list of gifts you were planning to buy her,” they say. See how easy it is to foil us simple-minded women folk? The little lady’ll be none the wiser.

But they haven’t quite thought of everything, because they underestimate our ability to detect when you’re feeding us canned messages. (Sometimes, we’re smart.) Also, how does it handle responding to questions we’ve asked while you’ve gone off on autopilot?

Incidentally, the app’s currently only available on Android at the moment, which is pretty much the Google+ of smart phones anyway.

Sorry, abhorrent iPhone-using boyfriends. You’ll have to wait.

Lucky for you, the price of deception is cheap – the app only costs $1.99. As for us? Dating a guy who has BroApp on his phone seems awful, but it could be worse. We could be dating one of the guys who developed it.GEEK WINGMAN

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STOP TRYING TO MAKE FACIAL HAIR IMPLANTS A THING. THEY’RE NOT A THING.

In arguably the most ridiculous story to emerge lately, the crackerjack team of journalists over at the New York Post just released, “Hipster Wannabes Get Facial Hair Implants,” where they try to convince the rest of us that dudes everywhere are digging this new “trend” in male grooming.

Hang on a second, I have to finish snort-laughing…

OK, I’m done now. The verdict’s still out on what part of this article is more implausible – the fact that they claim that men are rushing to plunk down $8G’s for a procedure designed to make beards appear fuller and less patchy, or that they want us to believe that Brooklyn guys are leading the charge. Specifically, dudes in Williamsburg, Park Slope and Bushwick. In other words, the same neighborhoods where dudes will give you side eye for ordering a bourgie drink instead of a $2 Schlitz or some obscure German craft beer no one’s ever heard of (because PBR’s for mainstreamers and bros, duh.)

True, a quick stroll around the B-K will confirm that every dude looks like a Mumford & Sons/Brawny Man hybrid, complete with requisite facial scruff, but still – no one’s buying that the trend flourishes there. Or that it’s even a trend. Just because Brooklyn’s the epicenter of non-conformity cloaked in conformist, buffalo plaid clothes, doesn’t mean you can leverage it for your own plastic surgeon-subsidized agenda, NY Post and DNA Info. I never thought I’d say this, but  leave the hipsters alone.

hipsterfacialhair

Further, I’ve never heard any female lament that a dude’s forest of facial hair wasn’t lush enough, or that it’s patchy. Ever. Most of us don’t care whether your beard is James Franco in “Pineapple Express” deficient or not – in fact beards tear the hell out of our delicate skin. Entire businesses have been created to prevent such chafing (The Soft Goat, anyone?), so why would we buy that men are follicle freaking out on our accounts?

Because “Beards are an important male identifier,” according to a plastic surgeon sleeping with the writer the medical expert quoted. Wouldn’t that contradict the idea that Brooklyn is the home of facial hair implant zealotry, since men there wear jeans designed to fit 12-year-old girls? That’s right, Post. Nailed it.

In the event any of you were contemplating joining the “2 or 3″ men a week (a soaring population!) who’ve been jumping on the bespoke beard bandwagon, perhaps it’s better to think twice. Eight thousand dollars is a steep price to pay to look rugged. And besides, think of how much Schlitz you could buy with that money…DAPPER WINGMAN

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