Do women actually do this? Do they keep guys around to make other guys jealous? I don’t really know. Someone please enlighten me.

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I judge a person’s intelligence based on their grammar and punctuation. If you don’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re” and you use them incorrectly, then chances are I’m going to assume that you just aren’t all that bright. Don’t take it personally. You’re still a good person. You still have many redeeming qualities. A well rounded education just isn’t one of them.

Allow me to help enlighten those of you who are English impaired and/or illiterate:

• Your = Your possession. Your tuna salad sandwich is smarter than you.

• You’re = A contraction for “you are.” You’re a complete and utter moron, but your tuna salad sandwich is surprisingly intelligent.

• UR = Not a word, you moron. You sound like an ditsy preteen who obsesses over Justin Bieber when you use the word “UR,” even when texting your tuna salad sandwich.

Of course, the opportunity for me to callously judge your education doesn’t stop there. Let’s continue!

• There = Usually a place. Look over there! There is your tuna salad sandwich writing its dissertation.

• Their = Possessive of them. Their tuna salad sandwich has a higher brain capacity than you.

• They’re = Contraction for “they are.” They’re wondering if your tuna salad sandwich and their tuna salad sandwich should get together for dinner sometime.

• To = A preposition or an infinitive. When you talk to your tuna salad sandwich in public, people think you are a moron, and you need to stop.

• Two = A number. The number 2. Two is a number you moron. Even your tuna salad sandwich knows that.

• Too = An adverb meaning “also” or “excessively.” You are much too moronic, and your tuna salad sandwich thinks so too.

And thus, we have concluded today’s lesson. Tomorrow there will be a quiz on what you’ve learned, but it will be after lunch…so I doubt your tuna salad sandwich will be able to help you.

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One night several years ago, I went to a hockey game with some friends of mine. While we were there, a blond that knew my friend sat down to visit with us. She had long blond hair and a big set of eyes that kept staring at me as I talked. At first I thought I was really being really suave. In only a few seconds of meeting this girl I already had her hanging on my word and playfully hitting my arm! She started flashing all the signals she could that suggested that she was interested in more than just my knowledge of collegiate ice hockey.

Not long had passed however, before I started to notice some odd behavior from this girl. First of all, she appeared to have the attention span of a gnat. Her eyes flickered around the hockey rink while her head bobbed around doing that thing that dogs do when they think they hear something way off in the distance.

She also seemed to have no sense of continuity. One minute she’s be talking to her friend sitting beside her, and then it mid sentence she’s turn to me and ask me the capitol of Delaware, while simultaneously turning to my friend and asking her where she bought her classy belt. Although, in her defense, it was a pretty sweet belt.

But the thing I remember most, was the way she responded to me. I had never met this girl before in my life. But she would sit there and stare at me like we were long lost lovers. In passing I made some clever remark that I’m sure wasn’t terribly funny. I don’t remember what it was, but I’m sure it was something ridiculously lame.

“Hey, you know why ice is so cold?”

“No, why?”

“Because it’s frozen.”

Whatever I said it was something stupid. But apparently she found it to be the funniest thing she’d ever heard. She erupted in laughter. She placed her hand on my shoulder for flirtatious support as she proceeded to cackle into the night, her bellowing guffaws echoing across the hockey rink. People around us started to look at me. I’m sure they must’ve thought I was the funniest man alive. A comic celebrity in their midst, taking in a night of ice hockey. The blond continued to laugh uncontrollably while she gasped between breaths, “You’re so FUNNY!”

I sat there and looked at this woman as she laughed while keeled over and latched on to my shoulder. I looked around the seating at various people in attendance. I looked at my friend and her classy belt. To this day, I remember the moment and my inner monologue so very clearly. As I looked at the gasping blond before me, struggling for breath because of my hilarity I thought to myself, “Matt…there is no way, you are this funny.”

Turned out I was right. The blond didn’t sit by us for too long. She spent most of the hockey game going from one guy’s shoulder to the next. I smiled when she made it all the way to the opposite side of the rink by the third period. For her, the game was in the stands.

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A friend of mine once tried to push me to date a girl that I wasn’t really excited about. She insisted that my feelings for this girl might develop over time if I would just “give her a chance.” So I tried. I rationalized. I told myself I wasn’t dating anyone else, so it would benefit me to give this relationship a shot. I tried to convince myself that my interest would grow, and that such developments could occur in the soul of a man.

They didn’t.

There are two camps in the dating world. The first camp is made up of people who only date people who they are really, really excited about dating. They might go for long periods of time without dating because they haven’t found someone that really excites them or captivates their interest. On the other side is the second camp of people who believe in what I call, “dating for the sake of dating.” These people will date anyone and everyone either because they feel as though maybe they can develop an interest over time, or because they find it good “practice.” There’s also actually a third camp that involves 45-year old men living in their parents’ basements, but…that’s a comic strip for another day…

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I don’t usually do comic strips like this. While it’s true that my comic strips are often inspired by real life observations, I seldom if ever write ones that are in any way deeply personal. Unless of course you count baseball or Transformers, in which case I write them all the time. Although, I’m guessing most of you probably don’t consider those things to be too personal…

So for the most part I typically avoid getting too autobiographical in my work at all costs. I have a whole list of reasons why I try to steer clear of that type of writing. I avoid it because people want to read comic strips about comic characters, and not about the authors who create them. I avoid it because I don’t think my innermost thoughts are of any entertainment value to readers. I avoid it because comic strips are meant to be funny, and not thought provoking. But most of all, I’m just kind of a private person, and I don’t really want you to know me that well.

So when a piece like this escapes my brain and finds its way into a completed comic strip I’m surprised. But I suppose one is bound to leak out from time to time.

And for the record: yes. I did just write an entry about a comic strip without actually addressing the content thereof. But at this point, that shouldn’t surprise you.

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I admit it. I judge books by their covers. Not only that, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it too. I try to be fair. I try to keep my judgments to myself. And I try to give people the opportunity to change my mind and prove my assessments false. Often I find however, that my snap-judgments are eventually given some credence. I think that’s probably the case for most people. We observe all kinds of people over the course of our lives, and we eventually begin to recognize similar patterns of behavior. I imagine that says a lot about how people choose to carry and portray themselves. It probably also says a lot about some kind of psycho-analytical mumbo jumbo. I don’t really know. I’m a cartoonist, not a psychologist.

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