  Enlighten the Grasshopper The Minister of Fun. The Sundance Kid. Z-Money Mags. Mr. Zach Mangan. As of several days ago, Mr. Mangan has been released back into the wild ending a 4-year stint on the Injured Reserve.
He has asked me to help him get back into the swing of the single scene and make an eventual return to the dating game, once he completes the requisite paperwork and some deep mediation. I, who recently eschewed yet another steady relationship, whole-heartedly agreed to help the man who once dumped me face first onto a cobbled brick sidewalk. Upon first thought I didn't think I should be the one doling out advice, given that I tend to gravitate towards steady relationships. Through further inspection, I think I've been turning a blind eye to my subconcious. In review of my track record, I've turned into a certifiable, danger! moving parts, do not operate under fatigue, heart-breaking machine. Maybe the dating scene is the shallow end of the pool I should be wading in until I figure out what I want.
After getting smacked around and causing my own fair share of damage, it's time to slap on the cross trainers and get in this game. I need a little sociological challenge. I'm already on my way to infuriating an entire gender, why half-ass it? Cue introduction and a little violin pleaaaaaaaaaaase. "Ladies. How are you? " Sundance, let me know when you're all done transcendental-ing. We'll go leisure suit shopping. 
