Who needs romance when you can rock like a fight between Haley's Comet and Alcatraz?...
The [a]Andrew WK[/a] Guide To Getting To Touch A Real Girl, then. Spot your victim across a crowded playground. Admire the sparkle in her eye, the lilt of her laughter on the wind, the curve of her dirty pillows beneath her Ministry hoodie. Compose a short romantic ode to her charms, something like “[I]I never knew girls existed like you/But now that I do I’d really like to get to know you[/I]”, yeah, that kicks Def Leppard’s ass any day.
Next, catch her eye, but – very important this – DO NOT RUN AWAY. Instead march confidently over (it may help to picture yourself as Meatloaf fronting up to Cher), and bellow, in the style of a rhino being skinned, “[I]SHE IS BYOO-TEEE-FAWL! SHE IS BYOO-TEEE-FAWL! NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NAAAAAAA![/I]” at a volume that submits her face to G-force three.
If you still get neither tops nor fingers, never mind – who needs romance when you can rock like a fight between Haley’s Comet and Alcatraz?