The Pick-Up Artist Debacle

So here I sit on a February 14th morn, eating Oreos and milk for breakfast and typing away at my blog with no other plans for the day other than watching movies or maybe picking up a video game, possibly doing another job search (as if I weren't depressed already).  Truth be told, I've never celebrated Valentine's Day once in my life for a simple reason: I've never needed to.  Anyone who knows me knows I don't attract the ladies.  I'm kind, fairly funny and alright looking (believe me, it's taken me years to build myself up to become that modest) but usually either they don't notice me or I straight-up repel them away.  To make things worse, the few girls that I have attracted I just plain wasn't attracted to beyond being friends and hanging out.  I've never thought about them as romantic material, which I'm sure is some sort of reverse karma for all the girls that never thought of me at romantic material.  Believe me, I feel the pervasive sense of hypocrisy on my part.  Anyway, I've only had two "girlfriends", each of them dumping me after two months with the excuse of me being "too nice".  Yup.  So, with me not having any type of meaningful relationship, it's really hard to go about getting one when I don't know what I'm doing.  I needed help, professional help, simple as that.

Enter a goon with a fuzzy hat and goggles.

I don't really like using Sarcasmatron as a personal forum as I want people to laugh and be entertained.  I have done personal blogs for people to read but 1) It doesn't solve any of my problems and 2) No one gives a crap.  This will probably be the most personal entry on here but I feel it fits as it does have to deal partly with the entertainment industry.  So gather 'round as I tell the tale about how I almost-kinda-sorta-didn't-really get on The Pick-Up Artist.