Here are some guidelines to keep in mind so that you can avoid killing him. Because killing the dude you’re on a date with would probably be pretty traumatic (although it could make for a good story to tell producers if you’re ever, say, auditioning to be on a new matchmaking show on Bravo or something).
—Show up on time. Mikey really hates it when women are late. It makes him nervous and insecure and afraid that he’s going out with an intimidating woman. He doesn’t know what to do with a woman who intimidates him, and if you do, he might then call you crazy and prompt you to throw him off a roof deck.
—Don’t steal his sunglasses. You can borrow them, and you might be tempted to keep them because you look so damn cool in them, but give them back. What if the sun’s glare blinds him and causes him to walk into oncoming traffic the next afternoon? Who cares if you look good in the sunglasses you stole from your boyfriend if your boyfriend is dead?
—DON’T lick his nipples. He doesn’t like it and doesn’t see the point. (Licking them probably wouldn’t kill him, we’re just doing you a favor with this one, ladies—have you seen the hair that surrounds those things?)
—DO lick your fingers. Just because he thinks it’s hot when ladies lick their fingers and it’d be fun to watch his reaction. You might want to try some flavored nail polish to encourage more licking. But make sure you get one that tastes yummy and not one that tastes icky and/or is poisonous, just in case he decides to get in on the action; a finger-lickin’ good time shouldn’t end in death.
—Finally, if he corners you in your friend’s kitchen and goes in for a kiss, don’t run away. Need we remind you about how cruel it’d be to kill Mike Degen by blue balls?
Mike is a man. He likes to do manly things—like drink beer and fart and watch porn (and by porn, we mean Giada De Laurentiis). But Mike doesn’t want to be gross. He swears he doesn’t fart (but Blair heard him do it once, so we know that he does). There’s a gentleman in there, somewhere, deep down… we think. So such stinky, pervy behavior sometimes embarrasses him.
So if you are a woman, and he asks you to do a stereotypically female thing—like, say, bake a bundt cake for him—you should kindly oblige. Because he’s probably a bit ashamed to be asking you to conform to gender roles and wouldn’t be asking you to put on an apron and pick up a spatula unless he really, really wanted some bundt cake.
Aw, doesn’t that look lovely? Just be a woman and get in the kitchen and bake him one already. Mike’s a man, and he’s hungry. Don’t try to be funny and/or argumentative about his possible misogyny by pretending you misheard him and baking him a butt cake instead.
He’d probably still eat it, but then he might die of embarrassment from the fact that he treated you like June Cleaver.
Aw, aren’t Mike Degen and his guy pal Sean so precious?! They’re happy because their team, the Kansas City Royals, had just beaten the stupidhead New York Yankees. Mike’s also happy to be alive—because he very easily could have gotten killed! Here’s how:
1. The Royals were playing the evil Bronx Bombers. Anytime evil is present, death is a possibility. As is green projectile vomit. Luckily, both were avoided during Mike’s two trips uptown this week (as far as this blogger knows).
2. Yankees fans are evil as well, as evidenced by the fact that they cheer when their pitchers hit batters with crazy-ass pitches. 90-mph fastballs INJURE people, you sadistic skanks! It’s amazing they didn’t take one look at Mike grinning in his KC cap and pull a gat on him or whip out their switchblades or jab him in the cheek with a pen. Then again, I didn’t hear any Common songs playing during the game I went to, so I guess the fans didn’t have any hateful lyrics around to incite such rage.
3. Yankees fans are so bored with baseball (what? you’re supposed to watch the game?) that they try to get the Wave going constantly. Mike really hates the Wave. We assume this is because he saw a great-uncle of his get killed by a Wave gone crazy back at some Chiefs game in the ’80s. Lucky for Mike and his friends, he did not face such a fate at Yankee Stadium this week.
4. Lacey has mad motorboating skillz and motorboated the hell out of Mike’s chest. He’s lucky to have lived through it without some sort of heart palpitations—though we can’t be sure if all his chest hair survived.
In conclusion, there were many possible deaths awaiting Mike Degen up in the Bronx this week. Thanks be to God that he didn’t get killed, despite the fact that we neglected to issue an advance plea not to kill him to the Yankees, their fans, the Wave, and Lacey’s face.
Please don’t kill Mike Degen.
Okay, yes, we’re aware that this is a silly request—because horses don’t kill people. But Mike finds you guys sort of frightening, for some reason. We’re not sure why, but let’s try to figure it out!
First, there are horse races, in which teeny men wear pastels and sit pretty while the beautiful animals do all the work. And then they pose with flowers.
Then, there are movies like National Velvet, in which little girls smile and ride horsies and it’s hard to tell whose hair is shinier, the horses’ or the girls’.
Finally, there’s My Little Pony, the toy that every little girl in the ’80s played with, and its eponymous show, My Little Pony Tales, featuring pink and purple ponies and unicorns prancing around and having conflicts such as cupcake fights.
Yes, they threw cupcakes at one another. Okay, so we don’t get it either, but, horses, Mike is scared of you. So if you could please just be gentle with him, that’d be lovely.
Next up: a “don’t kill Mike Degen” message to the Tooth Fairy.
Please be careful about what commercials run during Giada At Home, Everyday Italian, and any other show that involves Giada De Laurentiis in any capacity. Because Giada’s voice is so soothing and sexy, and Mike Degen is a boobs man, and if you interrupt the sensual mood of this:
with something as nonsexy as this:
well, that might be disturbing enough to give Mike a case of blue balls severe enough to kill him. And dying from Paula Deen–induced blue balls is just not a humane way for any young man to go.
Don’t symbolically kill Mike Degen by dyeing an Easter egg with the words The Great Beargen on it and then dropping it so it’s all cracked. Because then if guys hear about it, they’ll think you’re weird and will not want to date you and you might die alone.
We know it’s tempting after he just belched in your face (claiming he did it as a favor, so you could smell the booze on his breath and guess what he just took a shot of), but don’t kill Mike Degen by strangulation. At least, not in a crowded bar where there are many witnesses.
Don’t kill the Great Beargen by abandoning him in a zoo! Poor little guy.
Unless you make sure he’ll be okay by leaving him a bottle and a baby tiger to be his BFF.
Because then you are pretty much just putting the idea in people’s heads but are not following up and instructing them that it is an idea they should not be pursuing. And that is just lazy and irresponsible.
Noted.
Because, like, was there a question you asked? If not, you can’t really be that mad that he didn’t respond (definitely not mad enough to kill him!), no matter how personal the text you sent was.
Next time, just ASK the question: Are you drunk and do you love me too?
