The Shill is Smarter than Me

Here are two pieces of wisdom the Shill imparted to me over a decade ago. They are as true now as they were then.

1. If you want to tell if it’s ridiculous for you to be dating someone, take the older person’s age, divide it by 2 and add seven. If the younger person’s age is older than that number, you’re fine. If not, you look like an idiot.

Hmm. I guess I need to start considering any hot 24 year olds that come my way…

2. Some people, when they meet a person, basically give that person 100 points and take them away as that person disappoints them. Other people, when they meet a person, start that person out at zero and add points as the person impresses them. Those people are not going to have a lot of people they think very highly of.

7 thoughts on “The Shill is Smarter than Me

  1. I remember the first principle, but I can’t take credit — my cousin The Chemist devised that formula long ago.

    As for the second. I think I was drunk when I said that.

  2. That’s the first typo I’ve ever noticed on TCP. “Meat a person.”

    A Butcher Freudian slip?

  3. Luckily, my dating skills are better than my math skills. For a brief moment, I thought I was going to have to cancel on a young lady tomorrow night. Thank god for “.5”.

  4. I’ve heard that first one before myself. But the way I heard it, one of the world’s major religions gives that formula as the perfect age for a man’s wife. I’m more inclined to believe the Shill’s story about where it actually comes from.


  5. Roboto, a man with your legendary reputation would do well to ignore 95% of what I have to say, because, clearly, you are beyond the rules that govern mere mortals.

    W., no I think it’s the same thing. The Shill’s cousin is actually Jesus Christ.

    I kid, folks, I kid.

  6. I’ll have you know that the young lady was enjoyable to talk to about her career goals, how annoying her mother was when helping her set up her apartment, and celebrity gossip.

    Yikes. Maybe the that equation has a basis in fact.

  7. Speaking of celebrity gossip, wasn’t one of you going to ask someone who’d fucked John Rich if she had any insight into why he’s always covering up his chest?

    Shoot, John Rich, if you read Tiny Cat Pants, I’d be more than happy to sleep with you just to find out. Have your people drop my people an email.

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