I knew getting into it that Phil was an eccentric character. He was known for certain oddities—a fondness for shiny objects, spiky hairdos, the color red, to name a few. What should have really tipped me off to his peculiarities, however, was the night we were laying in bed and he confessed, “One of my exes became a dating columnist after we broke up. A lot of her stories were about me.”

Phil and I weren’t dating—we were hooking up. We’d slept together a few times, and who knew where things would go. We shared the same group of friends, so either way, it wasn’t as if we’d never see each other again if we decided to go separate ways.

For most people, Halloween is either an excuse to look like a slut or it’s an opportunity to look as stupid as possible. Either way, it’s all about appearances, and, ultimately about getting attention from them.

On Halloween last year, I had parked myself firmly in Camp Slut, arriving to my costume party as a bride left at the altar—one, of course, with a very skimpy wedding dress. By the end of the evening, I was playing the part quite well because I was literally living it. I sat alone in a corner of the room, pissed because no boy had come to my rescue. Then, like a scene in a movie, the crowd parted, and out of it emerged a tall, thin man with wispy blond hair, heading straight toward me. Corey was, in a word, beautiful. (Even with a slashed t-shirt and fake blood smeared over his face and collarbone).

Corey wasn’t hot. Hot is for David Beckham and Brad Pitt. With his angelic face and creamy skin, he was a bit unreal, as if he had just stepped out of a Botticelli painting. I was instantly infatuated.

I am amazed by the rise of the slogan t-shirt. You know, “Everybody Loves An Italian Girl”, “Barack ‘N’ Roll”, “More Cowbell”, “What Would Jesus Do”...I blame Urban Outfitters. But anyway, the most annoying aspect of this clothing phenomenon is that it’s given people the false impression that it’s okay to wear their stupidity, sexist attitudes, and sexual habits on their chests. After the jump, five t-shirts that are total dealbreakers.

Have you ever scooped a red jellybean out of a bowl, expecting it to be sweet and cherry flavored and instead, you shocked your tongue with a hot cinnamon surprise?

Whenever this happens to me I feel sort of betrayed – expecting something and finding something drastically different. And sure, it’s one thing when it happens with a sugary candy or perhaps a soup (you expect it to be hot but it’s actually a super gourmet weirdo cold situation) but when this same situation happens with a man it’s bound to throw you for a loop. And that’s exactly what happened to me not too long ago – I was expecting a sickly sweet romance and instead I got a fire -breathing hell boy.

Let me explain.

It was our third date before Chris brought me back to his apartment. He was a writer as well, which should have been an immediate red flag. Our relationship was bound to see its demise surely brought on by rabid insecurity leading to competition, some hate sex and then ultimately an anti-climactic break up. But I ignored the little voice in my head and went out with him anyhow. Something about beggars and choosers.

Recently a rather naive friend was telling me about the new girl he was dating. They’d been out a few times, but he hadn’t heard from her since the last date, when he went over to her place and then had to lie down because he felt sick.

Now, wait just a minute. What? No, no, no! I took him to task. I won’t agree to the oft-voiced claim that women flat-out don’t want nice guys. But I will admit to drunkenly advising this friend that he has to be a little bit more like an #&@$% if he doesn’t want to come across as a pansy.

There are so many things involved in attraction. From clothing to chemistry, a never-ending list of items can be turn-offs.  But sometimes differences are a turn-on, from magnets to men, you know what they say: opposites attract. Still, some things are so repellent, they’re dealbreakers.

When my friend introduced me to a man who was over a foot taller than me, pale as a sheet of paper with pitch black hair and black leather boots laced to his knees, I fell head over heels for this grown-up goth. I’m sure we looked like a bit of an odd couple, or the cast of a horror movie (me being the girl that would get killed first) but he was sweeter than the little pink dresses I wore. On our dates, he was so cute and surprisingly funny, all I could do was giggle and find ways to show off my cleavage.

There are so many things involved in attraction. From clothing to chemistry, a never-ending list of items can be turn-offs.  But sometimes differences are a turn-on, from magnets to men, you know what they say: opposites attract. Still, some things are so repellent, they’re dealbreakers.

Oh, the joy of making all your girlfriends swoon with jealousy by showing off your hot new man! After years of being the token single girl, I dreamed of the day when I would finally get to introduce them to a sexy boyfriend of my own. When I magically found myself dating a real package deal—a guy with a good job, even better looks, and a singing voice so sweet I was proud to call him “honey”—I couldn’t wait to bask in the bragging rights. So, I invited my friends to a country karaoke night at local dive bar. I just knew he’d knock a song, and my friends, out.