Dude, Seriously, . . .

OK, I must confess. My batting average is just that, average. I am not a barfly. It doesn't make me a snob or antisocial. It's just not my scene.

So I'm single on the sidelines.

This is by choice, despite what you all may think. I'm not a bad catch by any means, but probably not the greatest catch either. I can actually hold a conversation, although my jokes are 'pretty lame,' as pointed out to me at the office on a regular basis. I have my moments, though, when I'm damn hilarious.

. . . I choose not to do the bar scene, but apparently that is where "Juneau's finest" are. I get tired of hearing women burp, belch, fart and use the f-word all night.

. . . I would like to find the real ladies of Juneau. Where are the nice ones that stir the fire within a man?

Dude, seriously, you're lucky to be batting average. Honestly, based on what you wrote, I have to say, you should be grateful there are women anywhere willing to burp, belch, or fart in your general direction. And if one of them should use the f-word in any context in a conversation with you, you should drop to your knees and kiss her sweet, gaseous ass in thanksgiving and supplication and hope, hope that you might be one gastric eruption closer to carnal embrace and sub-cockel, spastic release.

With the lame jokes, though, I wouldn't count on it.

Let's face it: You need help -- and I'm just the guy to do it.

"Why?" you ask. Well, I like you kid. You remind me of ... Well, you don't remind me of anyone. (Thank you, Jebus.) Let's just say, I could use the karma, and leave it at that.

Got a pencil? Good. Here are three quick tips to not so much improve your batting average as give you a few more quality hits. Okay:

One, stop wearing sunglasses indoors. That looks doesn't work for anyone. It definitely doesn't work for you. Sunglasses indoors is for guys with an air of mystery about them, guys in the mob, and guys with last names like Pitt and Clooney, guys whose last pictures grossed $100 million domestic opening weekend. For the rest of us, it's about as attractive as wing tips with shorts. Stop it.

Two, lose the porn-stache. If the moustache hasn't come in by your age, it's not making the trip. Shave it, okay? If you don't get memos reading "To: Jason , From: The Boss, Re: The Money Shot," you shouldn't have facial hair (or facial hairs, in your case) like that.

Three, stop using phrases like "stir the fire within a man." I can't explain why you should. Just do it. Your loins will thank you.

That's it. Those simple suggestions should have you in a lasting relationship in no time. Good luck, my son.

There's no need to thank me. Okay, if you insist, send me something from the divorce.