If You Have These 10 Traits, You’re Girlfriend Material

Do you have what it takes?

 

What makes the perfect girlfriend? Is she the girl next door with gorgeous good looks and double-Ds? Well, not exactly.

Contrary to what you might think, most guys aren’t looking for a supermodel. They’re just looking for their perfect match: a woman who’s down-to-earth, sweet and sensitive to his needs.

Here are 10 attractive traits that every man keeps in mind when deciding if the woman (ie. you) sitting across the dinner table from him at that first date is girlfriend material.

1. You’re confident.

Take it from the guys, nothing is sexier than a woman who’s comfortable in her own skin. If you’re guilty of meekly asking lines like: “Does this skirt make my thighs look fat?” … stop asking. If you’re constantly needing his reassurance that you’re beautiful, he may start asking questions himself.

2. You’re smart.

Acting like a bimbo loses its novelty to men after high school. What men want in a girlfriend is a woman who can stand as his equal. So be the smart, savvy woman you are! To him, it’s a total turn-on.

3. You’re not into material things.

Yes, he wants to be your knight in shining armor. And yes, he wants to treat you like the princess you are … but that doesn’t give you license to act like one.

Allow him the luxury of treating you with romantic dinners and surprise baubles without having to demand them of him. He’ll be relieved that he doesn’t have to try so hard and surprisingly, this will inspire him to rise to the occasion when he doesn’t have to dedicate his whole paycheck to lavish tokens of his love for you.

4. And you appreciate doing things spur of the moment.

One of the first things to go in a relationship is the spontaneity. You get stuck in your Friday night dinner dates and you lose that spark you had when you first started dating each other. Don’t lose it! Men love a woman who can do things spur-of-the-moment (like grabbing him by the shirt collar and pulling him into the bedroom before he goes to work for some morning fun?).

5. Relaxing is perfectly OK too.

What’s one of the best things you can do for your relationship with him? Relax. Just relax.

When you come home from a long, hard day at work and see those dishes piling up in the sink, we know you have the urge to lash out at him. Instead, try to let it go for the night. No man likes a nag and every man likes a woman who can let her hair down and doesn’t sweat the small stuff.

We’re not saying to just kick back and bro out with him, but a relationship is solid when you’re able to relax with each other.

6. You’re not too serious.

Guys like a girl who laugh at their jokes, but isn’t mindless and isn’t always serious about everything.

Just as we mentioned that men like a woman who can forgo nagging him about the dishes, they like a woman who can joke about the dishes too. Biting remarks and snappy comebacks are just the witty repartee to keep the spark between you in your relationship. And hey, isn’t laughter the best aphrodisiac?

7. And you know how to be sensuous.

We’ve already mentioned before that it’s not all about your looks (albeit, that’s a good motivator for some men) — it’s more about an air of sexiness and confidence that will draw his eyes to you when you enter the room. Embrace your femininity. Ditch the sweatpants for date night and take the extra ten minutes to pull the LBD from the back of your closet.

You shouldn’t feel pressured to strut around the bedroom in lingerie and high heels like a Victoria’s Secret angel every night, but you should feel comfortable in your own sexuality… and expressing that sensually to your man.

8. The truth is important to you.

If he can’t trust you — how can he ever see you as his girlfriend … and eventual spouse? Keep things open and honest in your relationship. A little white lie over flirty texts with an old guy friend from college can spiral out of control very quickly into a full-blown fight … and breakup.

9. And you’re not needy.

Dating a driven, passionate woman? So hot. Babysitting a stage five clinger? Not so much. No man wants a girlfriend they have to reassuringly text, call or visit every five minutes. Give him his poker night with the boys. Let him go golfing on a weekend. Learn to give your guy his space — or he may break up with you to get it.

10. You’ve got his back.

As cliché as it is, some men want to be caretakers … but even the strongest of men want a soft place to fall. He wants to know that you’ll support him and stand by him in his life choices, whether it’s changing careers or moving to a new city. Show your support in small gestures with a quick “I love you” text when he heads off for his morning commute and listen to him after a hard day’s work.

Be supportive — but not suffocating. The last thing you want is to remind him too much of his mother.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Listen to Phicklephilly LIVE on Spotify!

Facebook: phicklephilly       Instagram: @phicklephilly       Twitter: @phicklephilly

 

Sasha – Chapter 4 – First, Last and Always

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything new in regard to phicklphilly and Sun Stories.

But this isn’t a Sun Story.

I have worked at the salon for almost 3 years and in that time I have always searched for my favorite clients.

It’s just something I do as a sales guy. Sales people always search out the best of the best in every arena.

But at a tanning salon or a mall it’s all about beauty.

I can’t help bet create lists of the prettiest girls that frequent the business. The job is boring and their distraction make it interesting.

If you’ve been reading this blog, (Which I pray that you are) you’ll know that I love beautiful women.

I know you may judge me as shallow but I love pretty young women.

 

 

I haven’t lost any followers. My blog has grown an I appreciate all of you for coming here to listen to me.

I’m just expressing my life and I want to leave something here on the internet forever.

You’d be surprised once your life and feelings are out here on the internet you can let it all go and be a happier person. (try it!)

 

You’ve read my past posts about Sasha and how much I adore her in a phicklephilly  way.

I’ve always played with my Number ones and twos at the salon. A contest I created between all of the lovely women that attend the salon.

But Sasha was different.

She signed up one night when I wasn’t scheduled.

 

I was working and doing my thing and then Sasha appeared.

 

Sasha is so beautiful I actually felt insulted that one of the girls signed her up and didn’t tell me she was now on board.

I remember the first time I saw her to tan, all I could think was, ” Who the fuck signed this goddess up and didn’t tell me of her presence.?”

I know this sounds nuts, but she’s that beautiful.

 

I love Sasha.

 

I know she has an enormous boyfriend named Mike who  is a really nice guy, but I have a blog to write and Sasha is who she is.

It has been a pleasure to meet you Mike and I will always respect and envy you. Sasha is a lovely girl and I hope you alway appreciate and love her, I’m just happy I got the chance to meet her and you didn’t kill me.

 

We’ve had the stories of the number ones coming and going at the salon, but when it comes down to it, when I really think back on what all of this nonsense means…. Sasha has always been my number one at the salon.

She’s one of the nicest women I’ve ever met, and she didn’t have to be.

That meant a lot to everyone.

I think back on when I first met her.

So beautiful.

I think of the bottle of Sweet an Sexy tanning lotion I got her to get her what she wants.

I think about the triple bouquet of roses sent to her on valentine’s day from Mike I saw on Instagram that blew my mind.

I think about of the doorknob sized diamond ring she wants from you to marry her.

 

I love Sasha as a friend, a business associate and a woman but I think about where Mike’s going and I can’t imagine it.

I’m honored to have Sasha as a friend and I’m so happy that I actually get to be in her life even if it’s in a tiny part.

 

And I’m going to tell you why.

 

I’m 56.

It’s over.

I’m a middle-aged guy. I mean I’m fine, but I’m done.

 

No matter what I write here… I’m done.

 

Unless I meet some woman who lights me up again, I’m done.

 

I can dwell on why I’m done or I can get back to the story of Sasha.

 

Because I think there is so much to tell here.

 

There is something deeper than just the hottest chick on Earth that I’ve ever met and I need to talk about how we are actually connected.

But I stay in touch with my number 1.

I have to.

I have to use all of my powers to stay in touch with the queen.

This is my whole life.

Who cares what she is.

Or who she is.

She’s Sasha.

And that is the thing that drives you. and you’ll find any way possible to be close to her.

Is it insidious?

No/

You just want to be close to beauty.

Why?

What are you missing?

What’s wrong?

Nothings wrong.

It’s just what I want. Lovely young women that look like young girls.

Sasha is flat and slender and gorgeous. She is the model of what you want.

But why?

Because you were grounded for long periods of time as an adolescent in the summer at the shore house. You were grounded because of your bad behavior. You were trapped for months around your younger sister and her young girlfriends, That’s when you developed your attraction to young girls. They were the only ones who would talk to you. They were nice to you. Sweet to you. Fun to be with. Your imprisonment wasn’t so bad anymore. It became a pleasure. I remember Victoria lying back on a bench in her terry cloth shorts and her plump vulva was clearly visible to me and she was very happy in tht moment.

I wished I could be with my friends but I was so grounded. I could only be at the house every night with my little sister and her friends. But I started to really enjoy the company of all of these girls.

I was eventually freed but, But I honestly think I still have an affinity for your young women. hence… my last four girlfriends.

My parents punishment became my obbsession.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Chinese Chicken Salad

“Because of him I learned that if you’re funny, the kids on the corner won’t beat you up or pick on you anymore. Why kill the lowly jester? He makes us laugh. He entertains us. Let him live another day.”

Lawndale, Philadelphia – Mid 1970’s

When I was a kid I remember hearing my first Bill Cosby record. I don’t remember what it was called. I think it was my friend R.J who brought it over my house. But we may have listened to it on a little record player out in my garage. They were recordings of his stand up routines. When we were kids there were few places to access audio entertainment. The radio was one of the main sources, and any records our parents and older brothers and sisters listened to. That’s how we got our music back then. It was the Sixties and Seventies and resources were limited.

I think I only knew Bill Cosby from an animated show called Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids that was on TV on Saturday mornings. It was a cute show about this massive fat kid and his friends. There was always a heartfelt lesson at the end of each show. Bill Cosby even hosted the animated series. I watched it every Saturday around lunchtime.

Bill was a beloved figure in the entertainment industry. A comic who always worked clean and never blue. His stand up routine consisted of these long story pieces that were vivid and absolutely hilarious. We kids loved them. He had so many cool tales about his childhood. Chicken Heart, Ice Cream, and a trilogy about Noah and God. Just fantastic. Fun entertainment fit for everyone’s ears.

Other comics in the industry looked at Bill like he was a deity. A guy that could get up on stage for a solid hour or two and just kill with his delivery and stories. A wholesome man that was loved by millions. He was the first African American entertainer to ever star in a dramatic series in the history of television. A national treasure. America’s dad.

The First African American to Co-Star in a Dramatic TV Series

I remember for Christmas I would always get a Bill Cosby record. I remember getting, The Best of Bill Cosby, Wonderfulness, Bill Cosby Is a Very Funny Fellow, Right? and Why Is There Air? Just to name a few. All brilliant. Loved them all!

But as you get a little older, your tastes change. And this story is not about Bill Cosby.

One day my friend Jimmy Hunsinger came over and he had a George Carlin record. He was also a comedian. We had never heard of him before. I think we were all around the ages of fourteen through sixteen.

I remember Jimmy had a record by George called FM & AM. We popped it on the little green and white record player in the garage and let it roll. We had never heard anything like it. This comic talked like we did. He said a lot of curse words. Back then, most boys that age all spit, smoked cigarettes, giggled at anything remotely sexual, and cursed like sailors.

Carlin’s bits were absolutely stunning. He quickly became my favorite comic. His material was so irreverent and funny, you just lost your mind laughing at his bits. He wasn’t afraid to use the ‘whole language’ as I say.

I quickly absorbed all of his skits and could perform them verbatim. I remember the gang of big kids that hung up the corner would ask me to do his comedy for them. I would stand there and perform Divorce Game like a young George Carlin impersonator.

Because of George I learned that if you’re funny, the kids on the corner won’t beat you up or pick on you anymore. Why kill the lowly jester? He makes us laugh. He entertains us. Let him live another day.

It really worked!

I saw the power of comedy in George Carlin. Not just that he was hilarious and brilliant, but he knew how to use words and his wits to make things that were normal, really funny. He had a gift for seeing the world a bit differently than everyone else and was fearless in his delivery of the truth. Just an incredible, unique mind.

I acquired his record albums, FM & AM, Occupation: Foole, and Class Clown. All brilliant works. Writing this makes me want to go find all of those recordings and listen to them again. I bet I’ll be able to perform those bits right along with George because his words are so ingrained in my mind. (All on YouTube, no doubt)

 

Let’s jump forward to 1983. Santa Monica, California.

Now I’m twenty-one years old. I’m working at a place down by the beach on Main street called Merlin Mcfly’s. I have a previous post about it. It’s part of the California Dreamin’ series. You can read it here:

https://atomic-temporary-111921946.wpcomstaging.com/tag/merlin-mcflys/

I started out working there as a cashier. I’d gotten a job there thanks to my buddy, Frank Roberts. He had worked there until he returned to his home in Belfast, Ireland. When he left I simply took his place. I would work from 4pm until midnight at the front of the kitchen ringing up food sales. I remember it was a big old upright cash register, where you would push big buttons and ring up the sales.

The Cash Register

I was making $4 an hour plus tips. When I say “tips” I mean a big jar I set on the counter with a sign on it. I would charm tips out of the customers. They would be split between me and the two cooks I worked with in the kitchen. If we each walked away with an additional five or ten dollars a night we were in good shape. That would buy cigarettes and beer.

But before Frank left the states, he told me about a thing he used to do that he learned from someone who worked there. He called it, The Moves. The moves were performed on a couple of cash food sales a night. Instead of ringing up the sale, you’d punch it in, then clear it, then simply hit the CASH button, and the register would open. This way, that particular sale was never recorded on the internal tape inside the machine. You’d take the customer’s cash, put it in the drawer and give him the appropriate change. At the end of the night when you were upstairs counting your drawer, there would be some ‘extra’ cash in there. Your drawer would be over by maybe twenty dollars. I would take that overage and split it among the two cooks. They never questioned their portion of the tips I gave them. But it was a way to skim a little extra cash out of the company and help out the hard working guys. It sounds bad, but at the time we were earning so little, a few extra bucks a night wouldn’t hurt anybody. We never got greedy, so we’d only take a little each night. This went on for some time.

There was a chef that worked during the day, named Smedley. Her real name was Brenda but for some reason everybody called her Smedley. I never found out why. I do remember she made all the soups. So pound for pound, she was the best chef employed there at the time. Her sister Lisa had recently come out from New York and needed a job. Management approached me and asked if I wanted to become a cook. I came from a world where my mommy made all of my meals for the first 20 years of my life. I couldn’t cook a damn thing. But they told me it was $5 an hour, so I leapt at the opportunity to increase my earning power by a dollar at this fine establishment. Lisa became the new kitchen cashier and ‘the moves’ went away. Too risky.

Lisa became known as ‘Lis’ the Piece’ because she was a provocative and sexually aggressive girl. She fit nicely into our rock n’ roll world. I have fond memories of my time with Lisa. There’ll be a future post about her and it’ll be quite lurid. But let me focus on the story at hand.

In the kitchen, I worked what is called the cold side, as opposed to the hot side of the kitchen. The more experienced cooks always worked the hot side. Which was primarily the grill. Burgers, chicken and steak. The cold side was less glamorous and actually a bit more complicated than the hot side. I was in charge of making all of the salads, sandwiches, anything fried, and other assorted tasks. (French brie in the microwave topped with toasted almond slices!) I remember one night after work I met this girl at a party in Venice. She said I smelled like fried food. I told her I had just come from working in the kitchen at Merlin’s and she laughed and said, “You’re cute and I love chicken strips.”

I think that’s the first, and last time smelling like delicious appetizers ever worked in favor of anyone’s romantic endeavors.

Working in that kitchen actually taught me how to become a proficient cook. It’s a talent I’ve carried with me my entire life. I’m grateful for the experience, but vow to never work in the hospitality industry ever again. It’s brutal work.

The great thing about working in the kitchen was, you could eat whatever you wanted on the menu. The rest of the staff had to eat the employee meal, and if they wanted anything better had to pay extra for it. So being a poor musician in LA, I knew that at least I would get one nutritious hot meal every day. Which is sustaining for a young lad.

I remember we had this really big guy that was a doorman. His name was Mike. Picture a good looking, muscular guy that was easily 6’6″. I think he did gigs as a stunt man. He would come up and usually order the same thing… the Chinese chicken salad. But he would say, “Can you throw a little extra chicken on that?” Of course I would always oblige, because when he came to pick it up he would grab the big wooden bowl, and drop a couple of joints on the shelf. I would stuff them in my pocket and smile. The same would go for certain cocktail waitresses we liked. They’d get a little extra something and bring us a coke spiked with rum. It’s just what we did back then to help each other. Trade and barter. I’m sure as you’re reading this, someone is pulling some sort of a move in a restaurant at this very moment.

Chinese Chicken Salad - Damn Delicious

One night, I was just working my shift and one of my favorite waitresses, a honey blonde named Colleen, came to me with some news.

“Do you know who’s sitting over in that booth?”

“I can’t really see from here.”

“George Carlin!” she whispered.

My heart began to flutter and I got really nervous and excited. Fame is a strange and unnatural thing. You experience the same dopamine drop meeting your favorite celebrity as you do when you’re about to see someone you’re falling in love with. But you don’t know the celebrity. It’s an odd feeling, but exhilarating nonetheless.

“What did he order, Colleen?”

“He got the Chinese chicken salad.”

Oh my god, he’s my favorite comedian of all time. I love him! Is he finished eating?”

“Yea. They’re just sitting there chatting.”

“Do you think I could go over and meet him?”

“Give it a shot, Chaz.”

Thinking quickly, I grabbed a guest check and a pen and headed over to the booth where my idol was sitting with his wife and another couple. I cautiously approached the table.

“Hello, sir. Excuse me. How did you like your salad?”

“It was great.”

“I made that for you.”

“Well, it was terrific, thank you.”

“Mr. Carlin, I love all of your work. I have all of your albums. I used to perform your bits like Divorce Game and Hal Sleet, The Hippy Dippy Weatherman for the big kids up the corner so they wouldn’t kick my ass. May I have your autograph, sir?”

“Of course! What’s your name?”

“Chaz.” (hands him the guest check and pen.)

He signs it and hands it back to me with a smile.

“Thank you Mr. Carlin. It’s been so nice to meet you.”

“You too, Chaz. Next time make it George.”

“Okay, George!”

And that was it. I walked back to the kitchen clutching the signed guest check like it was the Rosetta Stone. It was a magical moment in my life and I’ll never forget it.

Sometimes when someone tells me an extraordinary story, I always wonder about the validity of the details.

That’s simply not the case here.

 

That sacred artifact still hangs on my living room wall to this day. I’ll never part with it.

Thank you George Carlin for all of the joy and laughter you’ve brought to me and the world. You’ll never be forgotten.

Take it away, George…

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

My new book, Angel with a Broken Wing is now for sale on Amazon!

 

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

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