-Scroll down to see the super awesome collection of Raccoon Toons Valentine’s Day Cards!-

I think as human beings, we all need a little romance in our lives from time to time. It doesn’t have to be a lot. Simple things will suffice. I’ve decided that there is simply no substitute for that rush of romantic adrenaline you get from a witty conversation, or from a pretty face across the room, or from a flirtatious smile. If there’s anything else that comes close, I haven’t found it. There’s just nothing like it.

So while I am normally somewhat [cough] negative around Valentine’s Day, I would encourage us all to try and feel a little romance. I think it’d be good for us. I’m not saying you have to go out and search for it like some kind of desperate treasure hunt. I’m just saying, let’s allow ourselves to believe it exists.

That’d be a good start.

In order to help us all get into the romantic spirit, I have taken the liberty of preparing a series of Valentine’s Day cards. There are 29 of them (of course) and are available below. They are suitable for printing so feel free to download any of them that you like, or get all 29 of them in one file by clicking here.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

~M

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Sometimes you have no idea how a date is going to turn out. After many years of dating, I have discovered that people still surprise you even when you think you have everything all figured out. This could be good or bad.

I remember for example, taking a girl to dinner and discovering that she was far more charming and creative than I had previously imagined.

I recall another young woman who in addition to being a wonderful conversationalist, consistently fascinated me with the multiple ways she volunteered her time and performed various acts of service.

I’ve spoken before about the girl who went to dinner with me and ate an entire pizza all on her own. That was surprising. My goodness.

I even remember an experience as a youth when I took a friend to a high school dance and it was one of the best dates I had ever been on, because it turned out my date who I thought was somewhat shy, ended up being a ridiculous amount of fun.

So people can surprise you.

Unfortunately, I also remember some dates that surprised me in ways that were less than favorable. Below are a few recommendations of things NOT to do for all you dating people out there. I write them from my own experience, but you should feel free to take them to heart and make them your own.

• Do not say nothing. I can only comment on your pointy shoes so many times before it sounds forced. You’re stuck with me for a few hours and trust me, this will go a whole lot easier on both of us if you open your mouth and say a few words. I don’t care what you say at this point. I’ll pretend to be interested. We can have a riveting conversation on the life cycles of Norwegian snails for all I care. Just say something. Or at least breath a little heavier so I know you didn’t die in my car on the way over to the restaurant.

• Do not vent to me about all of the people you can’t seem to get along with. Not only does it seem like a red flag that you can’t seem to play nice with anyone, but it’s kind of a downer. I’m interested in you, not your mother or your sister or your coworker or whomever wronged you on this particular occasion. I am not your therapist. If I was, you’d be buying dinner and we’d be eating someplace much nicer.

• While we’re on the subject, you are not my therapist either. I didn’t take you out to dinner to experience an intervention. I don’t need to hear your armchair psychological opinions on my feelings of inadequacy. I don’t need to hear you discourse on how I’m not over my past loves, that I’m trapped in a juvenile state of regression, or that Disney princesses have created an unreasonable expectation of women in my mind. I know my issues, thank you very much. If I wanted therapy, I’d go to therapy. All I really wanted was some nice conversation and maybe a chicken ranch sandwich.

• Do not insist that you’re old enough to date me, only to moments later complain that your mother made you clean your room.

• Do not ask me about my interests only to listen to me passionately expound on my love of baseball, before promptly responding that you find baseball to be intensely boring and a waste of time. You won’t get a second date no matter how many times you text me. There are SO many things wrong with that I don’t even know where to begin.

• Don’t be a flake.

• Rather than responding with simple compassion, do not after learning about my family’s cancer history, take this opportunity to unceasingly lecture me (and my family who you’ve never met) on our eating habits, insisting that all of these various cancers could just magically go away if we only started heeding your all-wise and heretofore unknown wisdom on vegetables and the cult of Crossfit.

• Do not invite me out for a date, only for me to learn upon arrival, that some guy from out of town showed up and now you’re on a date with him instead.

• Do not bring your pregnant friend and her husband along on our first date. Do not insist that we should go back to your pregnant friend’s parents’ house afterwards. Do not turn our date into a family affair with your pregnant friend, her parents, her five (yes…FIVE!) siblings, and their three insanely large and affectionate dogs. That is a lot of people to meet on a first date. I planned to be on a date with one person. Not with nine and a half persons.

• Do not suddenly and violently erupt into tears in the middle of our date without any explanation whatsoever. I feel like this should be kind of an obvious one. And yet, here we are.

So there you go. That’s just my two cents. They seem like good things to avoid to me. Just sayin’.

Now go forth and conquer, ye single dating people.

The post A Very Good Start appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

I was once told that women like spontaneity. Only I don’t think that’s actually true. Sure, all you girls would just love it if some guy with great hair who you’d secretly been stalking on the internet walked up to you and said in his deep and masculine voice “hey, this is so sudden and spontaneous, but let’s go take a trip together to the far away island of Yap. Right now. Let’s leave. This instant.”

See you’d all LOVE that, and you’d brag to all your girlfriends, “oh my man is soooooo spontaneous. He’s the most spontaneous of all the men. You wish you were me.”

See but here’s the thing. That’s not being spontaneous. Because that guy with great hair and the deep and masculine voice got the idea to travel. Then he probably looked in to the costs, checked flight times, and weighed whether or not he could take the time off work. So I hate to burst your bubble ladies. But what you think was spontaneous wasn’t spontaneous at all. In fact, you keep using that word and I do not think it means what you think it means.

What you think you love and adore wasn’t spontaneity. It was surprise.

I mean think about it. You wouldn’t really want to travel to a distant [but awesome] far away land without any plan whatsoever. You want your man with the great hair and well chiseled abdomen to plan everything and just surprise you with everything you like (obviously he should just be able to magically KNOW these things). So you see, it isn’t really spontaneous at all. It’s just spontaneous to you, because you were unaware of this plan until a moment ago when this super-human-man with the great abs (who is also a doctor) surprised you with it while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

So you dear sweet ladies, the next time you want your man to be more spontaneous think long and hard about it. And then after you’ve imagined the two of you lost and alone without any plan or course of action whatsoever, tell him that you like surprises instead.

The post Be Spontaneous appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

I’ve written at length on the topic of date planning in the past, so I won’t rehash my views concerning the matter.

Instead, I will take this opportunity to discourse on something that is really important:

Um…ok I got nothing. I’m sorry. I woke up early for a job this morning and no matter how many Red Vines and Fig Newtons I eat (yes…I know I’m not the healthiest eater in the world thank you very much), I’m afraid I can’t seem to bring my mind out of it’s current state of drowsiness.

So while I would normally take this moment to write about some sort of terrible problem or dilemma that currently vexes our society, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to settle for the jumbled words of a sleepy cartoonist.

But hey, there are HUNDREDS of crazy Matt writings in the archives on this site. I’m sure you can find a good one that will still provide you with all of the displays of my insanity that you’ve gotten so accustomed to reading every week.

After all, I’d hate to deprive you of that.

The post Poor Planning appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

Freeloader. Slacker. Mooch. Sponge. Locust. Bottom feeder. Bum. We all know one of these people. The guy who never brings anything to the table. The guy in the group who expects you to do all the work and then share in the credit. The guy who is always short a couple bucks. The guy who shows up and asks what’s for dinner. The roommate who eats all your leftover pizza when he thinks you’re all done with it. (Actually…I might be that roommate…)

We all know one of these people. Heck, at varying times in our lives (I’m looking at you college years) we’ve probably BEEN one of these people. But there comes a time in everyone’s life when you just can’t allow this behavior anymore. You need to speak your mind. You need to think of yourself. You have to stand up tall and proud and say:

“Dude. You need to start wearing your own underwear.”

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It has been well documented that girls only like guys with skills. So it should come as no surprise then, that women prefer a man who can actually take care of himself in some capacity. I suspect this means a steady job or income, the skill of dressing oneself, and the ability to not run in a frenzied panic and hide under the bed every time a bill arrives in the mail. I can’t be certain, but I sense that’s what women today are hoping for.

And then of course, there is the ability to sustain oneself by eating. I’ve taken a lot of flack for this over the years, given the fact that I frequently eat the same things everyday. Things, which given my skill set in the kitchen, require little to no culinary preparation whatsoever. I don’t really see a problem with it. I’m healthy. I never seem to grow tired of the same foods everyday. I get my nutrients. Most of them. Except the green ones. And I save a whole lot of precious cartoon-making time by not wasting hours in the kitchen when I’m hungry NOW. So I really don’t see the problem. I am in fact, happy with my meals.

Women on the other hand think there’s something wrong with me. They feel it’s important to fix me. They notice my extreme bachelorhood and respond in one of two ways. Either they shake their heads in disdain and frustration at the hopeless man-child before them, or… OR! they take it upon themselves to feed this poor hungry soul. That’s right boys and girls, I have unwittingly discovered the secret to having all kinds of delicious meals suddenly making their way onto your dinner plate.

I didn’t plan it this way. It just happened. All of a sudden, people discovered that I only spend $30 a month on groceries and they started bringing me food. And who am I to deny their kindness?? It’s a way better system than food stamps. Trust me.

Alma makes great cookies (when she doesn’t burn them on purpose), but her real strength is in her shredded beef tacos. Sooooooo good.

Rosie makes these amazing fudge bars, but what’s even better than that is her meatballs. No one can eat just 9.

I have mentioned in past posts about the tantalizing and addictive nature of Kaye’s mint brownies. Never was there a more exquisite brownie made. Seriously. You will lose the taste for all other brownies when once the mint bar has grazed your taste buds. And her husband Bob makes the greatest homemade pizzas ever. EVER.

Laura used to make me strawberry pie when we worked together. But the REAL queen of pie is Sharon. Oh. My. Goodness. When Sharon calls and tells me there is a Lemon Meringue pie waiting for me to come and pick it up it’s like five Christmas all rolled into one. When you bite into a slice it’s like magic. Like wonder. Like magic and wonder. Like pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows. Oh Lemon pie. You are so delicious. Mmmmm….

And of course my mother makes the greatest macaroni and cheese known to man, which sounds silly until you’ve tried it, and your mind, body, and soul are completely blown away by the most perfect and desirable food that has been or ever will be created.

So you see, I actually eat pretty well. Now I know what you’re thinking. I’m a reasonably intelligent person. And you’re right, I suppose I COULD sit down and learn how to actually make these foods myself. But it just wouldn’t be the same. It’s just so much nicer when it comes from the kindness of one of my friends. I think their efforts actually make the food better somehow. Maybe that’s why it always tastes better when you make it.

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I have decided there is something in a woman’s DNA that causes in her, an inexplicable and uncontrollable urge to play mind games with unsuspecting members of the opposite sex. Something in her genetic makeup causes this behavior, I’m sure of it.

Last weekend I attended a large social event of hundreds of people. Due to the nature of the event, I observed that there were several women present whom I had at one point or another been on dates with. For whatever reason, none of those dates had materialized to anything more than an evening or two. Some of the girls I had decided weren’t right for me. Others could only be captivated by my charm for so long before they lost interest in my exceptionally clever banter. Fortunately they were all very casual dates, so for the most part, there was no hatred or malice in any of the encounters.

Being women however, all of them took this opportunity to play some type of mind game with my head. One feigned interest before scurrying off prematurely. Another turned inexplicably cold. And then, there was “career girl,” who did what career girl does best.

I had been interested in career girl from the first time I made her acquaintance. She had the intelligence and the class that I find so very attractive in a woman, and which is a real rarity in today’s world of grammatically incorrect text messaging. I would soon discover however, that these qualities did not make her immune to the aforementioned proclivity for mind games.

After a somewhat flirtatious string of interactions I asked her to accompany me for an evening as my date. She complied and I took her to a ballgame, where I feel at home and do all my best dating. Looking back, I remember feeling compelled to NOT wear my genuine authentic team baseball jersey (one of two) because I knew she would be coming from work, and I didn’t want her to feel overdressed. In hindsight, I probably should have taken that as an omen.

Turns out, career girl was reeeeeeaaaaaaaally into her career. I sat there and listened to her tell stories of rubbing shoulders with big executives, politicians, and senators. She casually worked-in that she took a pay-cut to acquire her latest job with a 6-figure income. She used fancy career-oriented phrases like “earning potential.”

…I bought her a hotdog with my meager comic strip money. Most intimidating date ever. That feeling was compounded as we walked back to my car which is literally held together by Shoe-goo and duct tape. No, that’s not an exaggeration even in the slightest. Sadly, my car is really held together by Shoe-goo and duct tape.

Have I painted the picture well enough for you? Let me reiterate: Ridiculously successful girl with ridiculously successful income. Me; the struggling self-employed Jack-of-all-trades. Car glued and taped together. We good? Ok. Moving on.

The date actually went well enough. She was gracious and kind, and held her end of the conversation. My [our] team won, so I was in an exceptionally good mood. But later when I asked her out again she was out of town and made no effort to suggest that she would be available upon her return. She didn’t return phone calls or text messages, so naturally I assumed she didn’t find my witty remarks appealing enough to compensate for my pocketbook (or complete lack thereof), so I left it at that and chose not to pursue any longer.

Now. You would think that a successful confident woman would have no need to play mind games. Well, you’d be wrong. Because it’s in their DNA, and they can’t help but engage in mind games. It’s like a disease. An addiction. Like gambling, alcohol, or my Aunt Kaye’s mint brownies. Those things are like crack.

Months after I stopped talking to her, we both attended a function through one of the local churches in the area. I noticed her there, but didn’t intend to make any effort to talk to her. I figured I had already embarrassed myself adequately by asking for a second date, and I didn’t want her to assume I was still pursuing her when in fact I wasn’t.

Here’s where things got interesting. I was visiting with a few friends when she walked by slowly almost as if trying to get my attention. I pretended not to see her. This girl had turned me down, surely she didn’t really want me to talk with her. But then she walked by again, this time even slower, in the opposite direction. I could feel her eyes watching me as she walked right past me. And then a third time.

Six times. I watched her out of the corner of my eye and kept count. Six times she walked slowly past with her gaze locked on me, hoping that I would break my conversation and notice her. It was so delightfully awkward and seemingly out of character for this woman that I actually started becoming embarrassed for HER. Finally when it appeared to her that my vision really was that bad, she turned, faced me and gave an awkward little wave. So finally I “noticed” her and we had a nice little visit.

What did it all mean? Maybe I’d been wrong! Maybe I had completely misread career girl! Maybe I needed to ask her out again after all!

And so I tried contacting her not long afterwards to see if she would be interested in getting lunch.

I was completely ignored.

Again, let me reiterate: Completely ignored.

Fool. I had been suckered into a mind game of epic proportions despite all my efforts to resist. She had succeeded yet again, and my attention was her prize.

And so I’ve come to the conclusion that all women are subject to these uncontrollable whims of mind games. To them it comes as naturally as breathing. Meanwhile all of us men can only sit and wonder what the heck is going on, as we glue and tape our cars together.

I still run into career girl every so often, although I’m pleased to say I haven’t embarrassed myself by asking her out again. Each time she plays the same little game, doing her best to be noticed before finally walking towards me and engaging in conversation. And each time I watch out of morbid fascination as I try unsuccessfully to analyze the psychology of it all.

Mind games. Now there’s a competitive sport.

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Guys, we’ve been lied to. Turns out, not everything we see in the movies actually works in real life. I know, crazy right? But it’s the cold hard truth. We’ve endured countless chick flicks to make our dates happy, and all of them tell pretty much the same story. 2 guys. 1 girl. Guys fight over her. And to the victor go the woman’s heart. So naturally when we see our dates swooning over the brooding jealous type, we are left to assume that we can apply these same principles into our own lives.

Bad news gents. Turns out it’s soooo much more complicated than any given movie starring Sandra Bullock or Reese Witherspoon. You can’t just do something crazy and dramatic in the 3rd act to make the girl love you and forget about the other guy who EVERYONE can clearly see is a total jerk anyway. You can’t win the girl based on your sweet endearing humor despite the fact that your yearly income is suspect at best. I know, this hardly seems fair after a lifetime of Hollywood movies, but it’s the lot that we are left to deal with.

So what  DOES a girl want? After much research, I am left to conclude that she has absolutely NO IDEA what she wants. Not. A. Clue. It would appear that this is the part of life the movies actually got right. In preparation for writing this, I googled around a bit and found some real-life internet profiles of women and what they claim to be seeking from men. It reminded me of why I am no fan of online dating. Here are some excerpts (you know they’re authentic sadly, because I didn’t correct the spelling, punctuation, and grammar):

• “Men are like parking spots, the good ones are taken and the free ones are handicapped! I want to be treated like the princess I am”

• “someone who can make me smile with a glance knows french loves movies and music wouldn’t mind dancing in the rain even if they were wearing a nice outfit happens to be in the milatary humble, kind, gracious, bruised”

• “I would like to meet an amazing man who loves to dance, cook, cuddle, kiss, who is intelligent, confident, knows exactly what he wants… and gets it…with dark hair and light eyes… Guys with long hair.”

• “You have to be able to keep up. If you like television marathons, interacting with video games, or devouring several bags of Lays while doing these things, you need not apply.”

• “a guy who loves me no matter how i look or how out of shape i will get. i want someone who likes to read and has realistics dreams. ofcourse a romantic guy. someone who brings me a single rose or small flower just because

• “A guy who accepts my weirdness, loves the crazy moments, and has infinite patience. I’m just a sucker for the fawning attention. A guy has to be a little passionate, yes. No one wants a wimp.”

• “to tell u the truth at first I want a guy who is dangerous, I want a bad boy, but when it starts to get serious, I want him to be serious, and cudly,,”

• “I’d tell you one thing, but I’d secretly be hoping for something else. But the first thing that came to mind [is] chocolate and someone to do my homework.”

Did you guys get all that? Wow! It’s all so easy! And I’m TOTALLY not being sarcastic to prove the absurdity of our expectations of the opposite sex! All we have to do is do all of those things until we finally succeed in becoming the likeness of every woman’s dreams! Like this guy:

Yes! We can do it guys! This is totally within our reach!! Oh wait…here’s one more personal I found:

• “The best thing a guy can do is try to be himself. Be yourself.”

Crap. Looks like we’re screwed, gents.

The post Need a Hand? appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

Encounters. There’s an interesting word. I’m not talking about those close ones from the 3rd kind. I’m talking about those dreadfully unpleasant ones. The ones you take all precautions to avoid. Those terribly uncomfortable and awkward ones.

I think we’ve all probably got people in life that we’d love nothing more than to NEVER SEE AGAIN. You know who I’m talking about. Right now at this exact moment you have someone in mind. Maybe it’s a bully from the 3rd grade. Maybe it’s that girl who broke your heart after she told you that she loved you. Maybe it’s that pathetic loser ex-boss of yours who fired you and ushered in an era of living out of your car. Maybe it’s that crazy stalker you had in high school who memorized your class schedule and totally followed you into the library that time, forcing you to hide in a crumpled ball behind the non-fiction section. Maybe your nightmares are still haunted by one or all of these experiences. Maybe you should go create a website and write about it. That’s supposed to be therapeutic. Or something.

So what do you do when the unthinkable occurs and you find yourself in that terrible moment when you realize that you are about to cross paths with one of these…”people?” In preparation for such terrifying and gruesome events, and after much contemplation, I have developed this handy dandy list for you, my faithful and loyal readers, so that should the unthinkable happen and one of these encounters should occur, you will be prepared to handle it with the utmost dignity and grace.

• If you should encounter a former bully you might consider the following prepared statement:

“Hey. Remember back in the 3rd grade when you thought you were cool and you used to kick me in the stomach during recess soccer matches? Haha! Yeah! Isn’t it funny now, how you’re a fat tub of lard, and I have solid abs and can bench almost twice my own weight?? SO funny! Maybe you should get a gym membership. Fatty.”

• If you should encounter a former boss or coworker who you loathe or despise:

“Oh hey. How’s that “career” working out for you? Still single huh? Imagine that. Me? Oh I’m doing great. I draw cartoons and have this totally awesome website that’s probably read by like, at least 7 people. Yup. Totally famous now. I’m in the background of  TV commercials. Very reputable companies go out of their way to contact me because they see  how totally awesome I am and know that I deserve to have a better job than you. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m on the Tonight Show within the year. Your breath smells.”

• If you should encounter a former love (or loves):

“I’m sorry. Who are you again? Oh…yes. Now I remember you. Yeah, it IS funny running in to you. Especially since I vowed never to return to your town, you black-hearted incarnation of evil. I’m doing great. I’m going on the Tonight Show. I totally date women hotter than you now. Like all the time. You should probably feel bad about that for some reason. Your husband is a tool, by the way. He reminds me of Ben Affleck. That’s not a good thing. At all. And no, we cannot be Facebook friends.”

• If you should encounter a former stalker:

“I’m sorry? No. You must have me mistaken for someone else. I have no idea who you are talking about. That sounds like someone who is dead though. I’m pretty certain that person is dead. You should forget about them and follow someone else into the library. Anyway, I’m kind of busy. I’m about to go on the Tonight Show. But I think I have a former boss you should meet.”

All grace. All class. All dignity. You might want to go ahead and print out that list. Save it in your wallet or something. That way you’ll be prepared at any given moment. Yeah, we are SO ready for this. Bring on the encounters.

The post The Encounter appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

The above comic strip is full of clever subtext. If you don’t get it, you probably need to go back and read the last several comic strips. You can start at the beginning of this storyline by clicking here.

I don’t go out to dinner very often. In fact, I try to avoid it most of the time. It doesn’t make any sense to me. It all just seems like a big waste of time and money. Think about it. First you have to drive aaaaaaaaaall the way to the restaurant. Then you have to WAIT to be seated. Then you have to WAIT for your order to be taken. WAIT for your food. WAIT for your bill. WAIT for the server to bring you the crayons that you requested when you first sat down. And then when it’s all said and and done you have to drive on home, and what do you have to show for it? A couple hours sucked from your life and an empty wallet. No thanks. Not for me. I’d rather have a peanut butter and honey sandwich. Those things are crazy delicious, they cost barely anything, I can prepare several in mere minutes, and I can eat them in the comfort of my own home while I turn on the baseball game and yell obscenities at Dodger players. Stupid Dodgers.

There are times when I have to go out to dinner though. Usually it’s when I’m out on a date. There’s something to be said for supplying a pretty girl with sustenance for the evening. And in this scenario, the extra waiting time of the restaurant is ideal as it results in less date time that I actually have to plan! Win-win. Bi-winning.

I always find it interesting to see what my date orders from off the menu. I find it a fascinating character study. I really don’t care what she orders, but I like to pretend it tells me something about her personality that I didn’t already know. A burger? All-American girl. A Salad? Fitness buff and/or overly concerned about body image. A peanut butter honey sandwich? My future wife. A giant fried onion? Not interested in making-out with me. At all.

Actually that was one of our little “tests” when I was dating and in high school. I’d take my date to a burger place that had the greatest milkshakes ever. If she ordered a shake that was anything in the mint/peppermint family I figured I had the green light. So many women of my youth tantalized me by the simple order of a mint-chocolate dairy product. Those sultry little vixens. They knew exactly what they were doing. Come to think of it, that’s probably still a good gauge to go by.

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