Does your girlfriend ever lie to you? She probably does and you don’t even know it.

Here are some common things that women tell their boyfriends — and what they really mean.

1. You are the only man for me.
   Translation: If you are unfaithful, I’ll dump you in a minute.
2. You look so masculine in your shorts.
   Translation: Where did you buy those awful looking shorts?
3. You look so sexy with your cute little beard.
   Translation: You better shave that monstrosity in the morning.
4. I love your new car.
   Translation: Where did you get that pile of junk? Did you buy it at the Lemon factory?
5. Let’s make love tonight.
   Translation: Like that’s really going to happen.
6. I love the way you kiss.
   Translation: My dog kisses better than you.
7. You sure know how to dance.
   Translation: Step on my feet one more time and I’ll clobber you with my purse.
8. Do you have a little cold?
   Translation: Stay away from me. God you are so contagious.
9. I’m really going to miss you. Hurry back.
   Translation: Take a one way ticket to the North Pole.
10. Don’t worry about the spill on my dress. It’s really nothing at all.
    Translation: You moron. This dress cost me a fortune. Wait until I accidentally spill coffee on your suit.
11. I just love your smile.
    Translation: You are in serious need of dental work.
12. You have such a wonderful smell.
    Translation: Did you just release some gas?
13. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have such a great guy.
    Translation: I hope that nobody notices that I’m going out with you.
14. You give me goosebumps.
    Translation: Are you related to Dracula?
15. That was a delicious meal.
    Translation: I hope that I don’t get food poisoning.
16. We have so much in common.
    Translation: We both really can’t stand each other.
17. That was a hilarious movie.
    Translation: I had a nice nap. Now what was that movie about?
18. These are the most beautiful flowers in the world.
    Translation: Did you buy them at a thrift shop? The roses are beginning to wilt.
19. I just love this box of chocolates.
    Translation: How many times have I told you that I’m on a diet? You can take this box of chocolates and go stuff yourself.
20. I love you. I love you. I love you.
    Translation: Where did I go wrong? Why did I have to get involved with Mr. Loser? Are you ever going to find a job?

I was having a drink at a local restaurant with my friend Justin when he spotted an attractive woman sitting at the bar.

After a half hour of gathering his courage, he approached her and asked, “Would you mind if I chatted with you for a while?”

She responded by yelling at the top of her voice, “No, I won’t go home with you tonight!”

With everyone in the restaurant staring, Justin crept back to our table, puzzled and humiliated.

A few minutes later, the woman walked over to us and apologized.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” she said, “but I’m a graduate student in psychology and I’m studying human reaction to embarrassing situations.”

At the top of his lungs Justin replied, “What do you mean, two hundred dollars?!”

A woman meets a man in a bar. They talk; they connect; they end up leaving together. They get back to his place, and as he shows her around his apartment.

She notices that one wall of his bedroom is completely filled with soft, sweet, cuddly teddy bears.There are three shelves in the bedroom, with hundreds and hundreds of cute, cuddly teddy bears carefully placed in rows, covering the entire wall!

It was obvious that he had taken quite some time to lovingly arrange them and she was immediately touched by the amount of thought he had put into organizing the display. There were small bears all along the bottom shelf, medium-sized bears covering the length of the middle shelf, and huge, enormous bears running all the way along the top shelf.

She found it strange for an obviously masculine guy to have such a large collection of Teddy Bears. She is quite impressed by his sensitive side, but doesn’t mention this to him.

They share a bottle of wine and continue talking and, after awhile, she finds herself thinking, “Oh my God! Maybe, this guy could be the one! Maybe he could be the future father of my children.”

She turns to him and kisses him lightly on the lips. He responds warmly. They continue to kiss, the passion builds, and he romantically lifts her in his arms and carries her into his bedroom where they rip off each others clothes and make hot, steamy love.

She is so overwhelmed that she responds with more passion, more creativity, more heat than she has ever known.

After an intense, explosive night of raw passion with this sensitive guy, they are lying there together in the afterglow. The woman rolls over, gently strokes his chest and asks coyly, “Well,how was it??”

The guy gently smiles at her, strokes her cheek, looks deeply into her eyes, and says:

Help yourself to any prize from the middle shelf…

A little boy goes to his father and asks “Daddy, how was I born?”

The father answers: “Well son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway.

Your mom and I got together in a chat room of an online dating service.

We set up a date via e-mail and we met at cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, I upgraded my floppy disk to a stiffy and then your mom agreed to do a download from my hard drive.

As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of had used a firewall, and since it was too late to hit the delete button, nine months later, a blessed little pop-up appeared and said:

“You’ve got Male!”

When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend’s father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter’s chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a hand that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter’s suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they’ll stay wilted all night.

“So,” I’ll call out jovially. “I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you’re stupid, or did you merely want to appear stupid?”

As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.

1. If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure as heck not picking anything up.
2. You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.
3. I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
4. I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
5. In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”
6. I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make youcry.
7. As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
8. The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.

My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I’d be embarrassed too – there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did not suggest to one of these cretins that I’d have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn’t remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate — ink washes off-and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.

One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter’s would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. “Don’t you remember being that age?” she challenged.

Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?

We’ve all seen personal ads and probably most of us have wondered what do all those abbreviations really mean. Well, here is a helpful guide to the real meanings behind all those abbreviations

First, the women:

Now, the Male side of the list