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Stretch me out on a rack, let rats nibble at my ears, hot wax drip down my privates and spikes penetrate my anus. Only then I might admit to a Hot Chick that I enjoy books with dragons on the cover, participate in events where I pretend to be a space alien, or that I get excited just thinking about computers. If you're like me and you don't want to sleep alone for the rest of your life, you may want to broach the "fantasy subject" carefully. Preferably after you've been married and have five or more children.

I dare you to walk into any gaming shop, comic book nook, or computer store and count the nubile, young, available females leisurely perusing the shelves. I guarantee the answer will be statistically zero. Why don't girls go for Science Fiction? It's fun, intelligent, and makes you feel superior to mere unenlightened normals —isn't that what every girl looks for in a man? I'm sure there are a few hot 'open-minded' ladies on planet Earth, but face the facts— for every babe like that, there are 60,000 guys batting down her door with a heavy siege engine they cobbled together in woodshop.

Unfortunately, Hot Chicks are one of life's necessities for a horny young man -even one whose skin only comes into contact with direct sunlight three or four times a year. Are Chicks simply afraid to compete with an Orcish horde for their man's attention? Is there some gland that secretes evil pheromones when a nerdy guy is in his element? What can a Sci-Fi loving geek do to win a woman's favor?

Probably the safest way is to hide your 'affliction'. When you make small talk, make sure to veer the conversation toward your few less-geeky interests, like music or comedy. Don't mention you think Weird Al is the greatest rock star of all time or incessantly quote the dialogue from Monty Python's Holy Grail. One weak moment like that and it's back to jerkin' the gherkin.

If you do manage to get her back to your place, think quickly. Explain the Boris Vallejo posters as 'campy fun'. Lead Hobbit figurines become 'valuable collectables'. Your bookshelf of Sci-Fi paperbacks becomes your 'raw material for a comprehensive genre survey for the New York Times Book Review'. Never let her realize how obsessive you are. If you're very lucky, she'll accept you for who let her believe you are. Then, maybe you'll be able to get her to wear a form-fitting futuristic leather get-up. You'd be the envy of nerds everywhere.

But it might not work. No matter how careful you are, no matter how much she falls for you, your obsessed inner-geek will spill out all over your Empire Strikes Back bed sheets. To a hot chick, fantasy fandom is a sign of thumb-sucking immaturity. They don't realize what a catch Sci-Fi nerds truly are. They're pioneers who reach to the heavens in search of higher truth and spiritual enlightenment. They're the freethinking power brokers of tomorrow with giant income potential -as long as they don't spend it all on a pair of Mary McDonnell's used pantyhose.

Men of all shapes and sizes find some bit of minutiae to fixate on. Why are music and sports acceptable obsessions when sci-fi and fantasy are not? What could be more immature and helpless than an overweight, drunken man cheering his favorite football team while farting in front of the television? Is a skinny, heroin-saddled doper trying to master three chords on an expensive, six-stringed electric penis attractive? Yet, these male alternatives are respected by Hot Chicks everywhere. And while women tend not to fetishize stupid hobbies as much as men, you can't say soap operas, doll collections, or Merchant Ivory films are any better.

The men whom jealous types call, 'eggheads,' represent all that is desirable in the male species. Period.

If geeks got out more and made friends with real women, maybe they'd stop referring to them as 'chicks' and 'babes' and start seeing them as real people and have something to talk about with them. Empathy could bridge the gender gulf of misunderstanding.

That stuff is not for me. I'll never be able to convince a Hot Chick my Sci-Fi obsessions aren't somehow frightening. Instead, I'm busy creating a synthetic 'babe' with the help of my old TRS-80, some copper tubing, a bra, and an off-the-shelf wire-frame computer model of Kelly LeBrock. It's much easier to figure out a woman's programming when it's written in BASIC.

MATT PATTERSON lies about his nerdy habits with Hot Chicks everywhere.


The Assman Cometh (again)

Rejected Ben & Jerry's Flavors

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