tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46067547706455029142011-06-06T16:48:41.497-07:00A Bad Date Blog-- Names have been changed to protect the innocent, inept and embarrassed.Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.comBlogger431100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-59379953132660734732009-04-07T08:01:00.000-07:002009-04-07T08:01:01.125-07:00

Have you seen the Sandlot where the guy is in a pickle? Well I’ve been in a pickle. Somehow I went to watch movies with a couple of girls in the singles ward. I didn’t know them, I was just looking for something to do. (Oh man I hate this story . . . but had it not happened perhaps my wife wouldn’t have become jealous and realized she had feelings for me.) Somehow I was falling asleep, I was

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-2278533142196653992009-04-06T08:00:00.000-07:002009-04-06T08:00:00.415-07:00

Then there’s she-wolf (sorry I was trying to come up with a nice name, but this is what she was). I was trying to get a group of people together to go to the movies. I was not asking for a date, I was just trying to make friends and give me something to do on a Friday night. So the next time I went to FHE I was trying to get people to hangout . . . clearly not a date, nope not a date, can I

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-82114577616755622602009-04-03T08:01:00.000-07:002009-04-03T08:01:01.053-07:00

We've already seen a lot of bad date plans on this blog, and it seems that any activity is good for a first date these days (a cousin's temple wedding, work, the ATM). And I feel like every time I turn around someone is suggesting that some random event would 'make a great date'--firesides, guest lectures at school, community fundraisers, etc.So I've thought of a few good bad date activities

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-46691381414557954722009-04-02T08:03:00.000-07:002009-04-02T08:03:00.705-07:00

One time I happened to have concert tickets so I asked a girl out. As we were walking up to the theater she said, “People don’t ask me out much because I’m just waiting for my boyfriend to get back from his mission.”Yeah, that date went over well. Really she could’ve told me that on the phone and I could’ve saved $10. It was dates like these that I realized the truest definition of dating is

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-55382676650613945942009-04-01T08:03:00.000-07:002009-04-01T08:03:00.624-07:00

One time I asked a girl out to go swing dancing. I knew she liked swing dancing, she went every week. There was a live band and a big dance floor, only problem was I didn’t know how to swing dance. Sometimes you have to look back at these things and laugh.

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-38208264968322820862009-03-31T08:01:00.000-07:002009-03-31T08:01:00.562-07:00

One time I wanted to take a girl to something more classy than a movie—I got a list of plays in the area and found one I had never heard of, but some reviews said it was funny. Big mistake. We walked out after the first act. The F bomb was dropped throughout. And it was less funny than a Woody Allen film. Strike 2-we went to the pier to get milkshakes at Ruby’s. After putting coins in the

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-3678175390082481872009-03-30T08:01:00.000-07:002009-03-30T08:01:00.434-07:00

So I thought I would give a different perspective on the whole bad date thing—being a dude, I’ve been the cause of most of the bad dates I’ve been on. But certainly not all of them! So one time I decided we would make tacos for dinner. I don’t remember what we did afterwards—I just remember the tacos being a fiasco. Never attempt to make something you haven’t made before. We tried to

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-90516758494644887682009-03-27T22:01:00.000-07:002009-03-27T22:50:38.254-07:00

This week I had a few issues pulling me away from the blogging world, mainly graduate school (do I really need more reasons?); new confusing software (I attempted to follow an online tutorial--big mistake); and donating blood (trauma of my life--pics posted below).It has been mentioned that the tag 'boys do lame stuff' shows up on a lot of posts, and I have explained that this is mainly because

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-20564680520528576372009-03-20T08:47:00.000-07:002009-03-20T08:47:00.474-07:00

So all the posts from this week have been from tales from my own life. And the best part is . . .they are all part of the same bad date.The biology major studying fungi who liked linux asked me out via email and dropped me off in front of my house.Good good times.

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-1919316703767399122009-03-19T11:29:00.001-07:002009-03-19T12:14:05.072-07:00

After the chicken delivery incident, I gave up the "how to win friends" tactics and returned to my own natural, awkward conversation skills . . . until about a year and a half later.I was at institute and decided to be a nice person and talk to a boy I had been vaguely acquainted with in high school. I didn't actually 'know' him in high school, but we had been in a class or two together. So,

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-68394555665276664242009-03-18T08:37:00.000-07:002009-03-18T08:37:00.671-07:00

This is the preface to the date. This is a series of events that happened before I even met the boy, but which play an important role in understanding the events of the date. So.When I was living in the Philippines (as a missionary), my brother read "How to Win Friends and Influence People." He wrote to me about what a great book it was, etc etc and gave me a few suggestions. He said that the key

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-77170252881791429312009-03-17T08:07:00.000-07:002009-03-17T08:07:00.375-07:00

Tales from the life of the Keeper of the BlogOne night, at the end of a date, a boy dropped me off at my house.And when I say 'dropped off,' I mean he stopped the car and just waited for me to get out. It was like we hadn't even been on a date, like we just happened to be going to the same concert that night and decided to carpool.I have never been a fan of the doorstep scene, but can I tell you,

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-51181390018189891862009-03-16T08:00:00.000-07:002009-03-16T08:00:01.324-07:00

Tales from the life of the Keeper of the BlogOne day, a boy asked me out via email.He had my phone number--I had given it to him for non-dating, social purposes. And we saw each other every week at institute--except he didn't show up the week he asked me out.We were both in our early/mid twenties, not new to the dating scene.So I gasped in shock--and I mean a gasped audibly and sort jumped away

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-40794090103196202232009-03-13T08:35:00.000-07:002009-03-13T08:35:00.338-07:00

For those of you who are wondering why there were no new posts on Wednesday and Thursday of this week, and why there is no bad date tip of the week today, let me explain:I am in graduate school.Next week, I have a whole set of excellent dating adventures from my own life lined up for your enjoyment.The end.

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-76590032161616343532009-03-10T08:01:00.000-07:002009-03-10T08:01:00.169-07:00

Friday evening came. I was in my apartment alone and contemplating not answering the door, and leaving my phone on the kitchen table, in view from the front window, and not answering that either while hiding in my room. But I was too nice, and answered the door.We got in his car and he informed me that he needed to stop at the bank inside Albertsons to make a withdrawal. He parked in the

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-91121463222385482112009-03-09T08:03:00.000-07:002009-03-09T08:03:00.282-07:00

My freshman year of college I lived in an apartment south of campus. I had a couple of friends that still lived at home; they attended their stake singles institute. I had gone with them a few times during the summer and enjoyed it. October came around and the stake institute was having a Halloween party up the canyon in a huge cabin, combined with a few other stake singles institutes. My

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-78556329914002488252009-03-06T08:03:00.000-08:002009-03-06T08:03:00.916-08:00

One of the dates earlier this week brought up the interesting (and sometimes necessary) idea of date escape. In her story, she used a phone conversation with her mother to get taken home early. This is certainly a good option.Another effective way to escape a bad date is to get sick. Seriously. Headaches and colds are pretty good, but nothing will get you dropped off faster than threatening to

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-38458483400127377852009-03-05T08:00:00.000-08:002009-03-05T08:00:00.731-08:00

The time spent on (bad) dates should be measured like dog years--because sometimes 3 hours feels more like 21.If people took this measurement into account when planning a date, dates would be a lot shorter, and probably more enjoyable.

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-52891244491465554832009-03-04T08:00:00.000-08:002009-03-04T08:00:00.472-08:00

My junior year of high school I had two really good guy friends, Norm and Darren; they were each other's best friend. One day as I was walking down the hall to my next class I ran into Darren. He asked how I was doing. I responded that I was alright, my birthday was the past weekend and had not been too exciting. Darren said, "Oh, man, I'm sorry! We should all go out to eat or something!" I

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-24855560009926653042009-03-03T08:00:00.000-08:002009-03-03T08:00:06.307-08:00

I loathe blind dates. But, when my friend really needed someone to double with her, I agreed to appease her. The boy was nice enough and seemed genuinely interested in me. We went to a performance that included multiple clips from musicals. I thought it was ok, but my date seemed to think it was amazing. Especially during one particular piece - he sat on the edge of his seat watching the female

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-82062347416241497452009-03-02T08:00:00.000-08:002009-03-02T08:00:00.319-08:00

Setting: It is July 3, 2005. I moved into a new apartment. It is my first Sunday afternoon. The phone rings.Me: Hello.Caller: Hello. This is Ryan. Is Mary there?Me: Nope, sorry.Caller: Ok. Is Emily there?Me: No.Caller: How about Kate?Me: No. I'm the only one home actually.Caller: Well, who is this?Me: This is Rachel. I just moved in.Caller: Oh. I met you in church today. Right before Sacrament

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-46736251294649986832009-03-01T21:47:00.000-08:002009-03-01T21:57:48.009-08:00

This week's poll: Apparently, some people are having trouble viewing the Beethoven's 5th videos because BYU blocks YouTube. If you are one of those people, go to the Pass the Ice Cream fan page on Facebook to find out how to view the videos there (because BYU does not block Facebook).If you still can't view the videos and desperately want to have your sensibilities offended and your time wasted,

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-30892682599082878132009-02-27T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-27T08:00:00.410-08:00

Last week's bad date tip included bad questions you could ask your bad date. Of course, responses to the classic "What's your major?" can lead to other excellent queries.To the music major: Commercial real estate or residential?To the humanities major: What are your plans for eating in the future?To the teaching major: Which book/film from your youth led you to the idealistic notion that you can

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-62357703074618774952009-02-26T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-26T08:00:00.986-08:00

Since the Beethoven post yesterday brought up the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's 'version' of Beethoven's 5th Symphony, I decided we should get to hear it. And, during my visit to YouTube, I discovered many many other excellent renditions.CAUTION: If you are musically sensitive in any way, your soul may be offended by these videos.(Also, some of the videos are long, because, well, it's a symphony,

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-89032151606958086612009-02-25T08:01:00.000-08:002009-02-25T08:01:00.888-08:00

Jukeboxes are fun, but not for more than 15 minutes. I learned this from experience.I was on a double blind date, and we had just ordered dinner at a famous Provo landmark: The Malt Shoppe. So far, so good. Then the jukebox caught my date's eye--he rushed over to put all of his life's savings in the machine, gushing that there were so many good songs to choose from. "Whatever," I thought, "I

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-86098748694102828972009-02-24T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-24T08:00:00.193-08:00

I (age 21) just moved into a new apartment complex and, naturally, the most obnoxious 19 year old in the complex happened to notice me. We’ll call him Bob. Bob was notorious for trying to put the moves on all of his dates. So I was anything but ecstatic when he asked me out. Although being stuck in this situation was anything but lucky, fate kindly smiled down on me; his roommate decided to

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-15831066873995214482009-02-23T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-23T08:00:00.414-08:00

After a date with a nervous, chattery guy (whom I had tried to put at ease the entire night), I found myself on the doorstep of my apartment. He quickly ended the conversation with, "Well, I guess it's customary at the end of a date to give a hug, so . . . " With that, he shot his arms around me and hauled my body into his, swiftly enough that I had about nanosecond to react--enough time, maybe

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-36933186225982894502009-02-20T14:00:00.000-08:002009-02-20T14:00:01.367-08:00

We all know that it's good to ask a date questions about him/herself. This shows that you're interested in them, and that you're a nice person. So next time you're interested (in having a bad time) and want (to appear) to be a nice (but socially inept person), try these unusual and/or probing questions:So, how many brothers and sisters do you have that you like?Have you ever been (unintentionally

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-30361009435897241982009-02-19T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-19T12:17:07.997-08:00

*This date story wins a gold star for badness As freshmen in college you do stupid things. Or stupid things happen to you. Either way it's one of the well-known, unspoken rules that everyone must (or just plain does unknowingly) follow. Years later when you look back on it all--while some details may slip away--the big, fat, stupid, embarrassing memories seem to only get more pungent with

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-38731206821978224202009-02-18T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-18T08:00:01.011-08:00

My memorable date happened the evening my date and I were going to a formal dance at the high school. He arrived in his suit, looking very nice. Our livingroom and entryway were divided by a waist high bookcase. My date waited for me in the entryway. When I came into the entryway and approached my date, the protective instincts (?) of my crazy Siamese cat took over and she leaped from the

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-5516032390691148212009-02-17T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-21T09:53:27.541-08:00

Tales from the life of the Keeper of the BlogSometimes I do weird things on dates. It can't really be helped, I'm just a weird person.One Saturday evening, I rushed back to my apartment after spending the day at my parents' house. I was totally late getting ready for my date, so I threw all my stuff--laundry, homework, and groceries--on my bed. I thought the groceries were all non-perishables and

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-84319530331711864722009-02-16T10:48:00.000-08:002009-02-16T10:55:13.497-08:00

Comment: Thanks to everyone who has sent in stories. If your story hasn't been posted yet, it will be.Facebook anyone? Pass the Ice Cream now has a fan page. Find it. Fan it. Share it.New feature this week: Check out the poll about music on the blog (side bar, middle of the page), and cast your vote.Reminders: Send your bad date stories to passtheicecream@gmail.com, so that I have stuff to post (

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-87627050369087565072009-02-16T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-21T09:48:46.797-08:00

I had been dating *James for about 6 or 7 months and I thought things were going really well. Then one day, James came to pick me up for some food and a drive. We went to get food, but James stood hesitantly in the parking lot, so I reached up to grab his arm and go in (I was hungry). James apparently thought I was grabbing his hand to hold, which at the time, I figured it didn't matter either

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-75762677780760004782009-02-13T16:38:00.000-08:002009-02-14T14:05:25.638-08:00

If you're on a bad date, and you want to subtly suggest that things aren't going so hot, just bring up this blog.You can say to your date, "Hey, do you ever read that bad date blog, Pass the Ice Cream?"Whether your date says 'yes' or 'no' isn't really important--you're not that into them anyway, so you've probably stopped paying attention to their responses.Then you can follow up with, "There's

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-49144470710750141622009-02-12T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-12T08:00:00.965-08:00

I went to Knott's Berry Farm with a good friend and met up with a guy I had been set up with a couple months prior. I had emailed this guy and we chatted on the phone and he seemed like a good guy. He even came to San Diego with a friend to do a session in the temple and then met me and a friend for dinner.So while we're at Knott's Berry Farm he gets onto one of the rides and shuts the door in

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-38091371591845236422009-02-11T08:00:00.000-08:002009-02-11T08:00:04.828-08:00

I had been dating a guy for about 4 1/2-5 months. Everything was going relatively well or so I thought. Then I got a phone call. Now really how many stupid guys dump girls over the phone????? That's really tasteless guys!!!!! The phone conversation went: "How are you feeling?" (I had been sick the week before.) "I'm doing great, how are you?""Well, I um... I um think we should be just

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-11461234771107122942009-02-10T14:00:00.000-08:002009-02-10T14:00:00.782-08:00

This was a second or third date with *Ryan. The plan was to head up Provo canyon with some of his friends and their dates, cook tin foil dinners, and watch a movie on someone's laptop (because laptops make possible something as cool as watching a movie while up in the canyon).It's a bit of a drive up the canyon, but we all made it, found a nice spot at one of the park areas, unloaded everything

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-6783681718557133612009-02-09T13:12:00.000-08:002009-02-09T13:12:00.609-08:00

*Billy had an important night. It was open mic night at the comedy club in Salt Lake and he wanted lots of support as he tried out new material. After asking lots of friends to join him, the only ones who could attend were his girlfriend, *Sally, and this story's author, *Kelly. Kelly had been friends with Billy for a long time, and wasn't worried about any awkwardness of being a third wheel.

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-64057481268962434992009-02-06T21:53:00.000-08:002009-02-10T21:03:37.758-08:00

If you want to have a bad date, follow the lead of my good friend *Simon. One day, Simon commented to my friend *Emily, "If you were a Star Wars character, you would be Chewbacca."They were not on a date at the time, but comparing girls to large hairy creatures has about the same effect no matter what the circumstances.

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-46020630646583955602009-02-05T13:03:00.000-08:002009-02-05T13:03:00.916-08:00

Right after serving an LDS mission (two years, no girls), I was “invited” to ask out the daughter of a former teacher who liked me (the teacher, not the girl). My old girlfriend had gotten married while I was gone, and I hadn’t been out on a date of any kind since I’d gotten home; I hadn’t been out on a first date for nearly three years. Lacey was described as a ‘babealicious hottie goddess.’

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-64535673804125600232009-02-04T12:53:00.000-08:002009-02-04T12:53:00.769-08:00

Submitted by B-52I should have known. The fact that he was on the other end of that phone (yet again) should have clued me in. Alas, I am dense, and could therefore be tricked into going on a date with a boy I was completely uninterested in. "Hey, some of our friends are hanging out tonight, wanna come?" We're still friends, I thought. The talk was good, we agreed not to date, but he's nice

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-44306843096624135042009-02-03T13:19:00.000-08:002009-02-21T09:54:01.879-08:00

Tales from the life of the Keeper of the Blog*David and I doubled with his roommate (also weird) and his nearly-mute date. Though I had many mutual friends with the two guys, I had never met this girl. (And since she did not produce a full sentence through entire course of the evening, I can still say that that I have never really met her.)First, the four of us made cookies. The boys had somehow

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4606754770645502914.post-19580687160006593192009-02-02T23:06:00.000-08:002009-02-15T20:50:40.818-08:00

Tales from the life of the Keeper of the BlogThe date I refer to as 'the Boggle date' is memorable for two reasons: one, because we played a terrible game of Boggle (to be detailed in The Boggle Date: Part 2); and two, because it was the first time a boy asked me out in person--as opposed to over the phone--and I did not respond very well.One weekday afternoon, *David, who lived in an apartment

Keeper of the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17167767053231487757noreply@blogger.com5