Salutations, you slick, sly sons of so-and-sos. And daughters. Also daughters of so-and-sos. Don’t you dare say we aren’t about gender inclusivity at Cock & Block Enterprises LLC, whaaaaat!

Pop on your catcher’s mitt you mooks, ‘cause I’m about to pitch some real-life situations at y’all asses. Fastball style. Batter up!

So you somehow found yourself stranded at a high-society art gallery opening, where all the crème-de-la-creative-crèmes are rubbing their bony artist elbows together and saying stuff like “What’s your process?” and “I can’t afford food, can I eat a sponge?” all while trying not to make eye contact with one another. That’s weird! What do you do?! First off, don’t panic, ya hayseed chowderbrain! Wipe that drool from your slack-jawed chin and just follow ol’ Cockblock’s simple life advice.

Even if you can’t make heads or tails outta that eight-foot sculpture of Gary Busey’s teeth constructed completely from circus peanuts, that doesn’t mean you gotta stare at it with all the vacant-eyed dopiness of a Redditor at a women’s lib rally. Simply nodding and muttering syllables beneath your breath is a surefire way to spread the illusion that you’re deeply affected by this art, even if you’re actually just deep in thought about what kind of sinister hell we live in where Netflix would change “My Queue” to “My List.” QUEUE WAS SO MUCH BETTER YOU INSTANT STREAMING IDIOTS DANG.

Treat your art-gazing like a black ops operation: get in, appreciate that piece, then get the fuck out while you’ve still got legs to walk with. Lingering only means two things: either you’re so lost in thought about the artist’s process of recreating Inspector Gadget animation cels entirely from bodily fluid that you’ve just gotta wrap unlock their secrets by pure visual osmosis, or worse, that you’re interested. In. Buying. It. And you’re not! Trust me. Artists are dumb no-nothings that are too cool to sling lattes and too dumb to… I don’t know, invent time travel. If more artists would stop making My Little Pony fanart all the time and pick up a quantum mathematics textbook or two, I could be riding a dinosaur like a comically oversized rodeo bull right about now! Rass’n frass’n good-fer-nothings.

Hands-down, the best thing about going to an art opening is telling the artist you’re interested in their work, then saying “NOT!” while lowering sunglasses onto your face and skateboarding away onto a half-pipe. The second best thing is the FREE BOOZE, BOYEEEEE. Grab yourself a fistful of champagne flutes and drown those suckers faster than the asshole gallery owner can explain the difference between Manet and Monet. UM, if I cared about dead people I’d literally be in a graveyard right now! Ha ha, what a loser.

Uh, because they already have free booze there. Come on, that’s money saved, son. Acting like you ain’t got rent to pay, the hell’s the matter with you. One of these days we gonna have a serious conversation about your financial priorities, geez.

Oh yes, the finer sea of gangly, scruffy-faced suckers in skinny jeans and banged, bangled beauties with bangin’ bods you will never find. Find your target, sidle on up beside them and spit one of the following:

1: “I feel like nobody else gets it. You look like you get it. Let’s awkwardly make out like anxious middle-schoolers.”

3: “Do you want to play Truth or Dare and if so I dare you to give me your number ;)”

Works like a charm. Call me Toronto-born actor-turned-rapper Aubrey “Drake” Graham, because you can Thank Me Later.

You know what lies deep beneath that Coffee Bean And Jesus beard? Disappointment. First you’re at an art gallery both pretending you know what the hell a fresco is, next thing you know you’re rolling your eyes because they won’t stop finding ways to work Jeff Mangum into every conversation. Yes, okay, we get it, he resurfaced after years in isolation following an ill-timed nervous breakdown and while he hasn’t produced a substantial amount of new content it’s wonderful that he’s touring with his recently reunited band but damn girl, it is 3AM and I have work tomorrow! You are the worst, girl, for real.

And bada-bing bada-blammo, that is how you properly act at an art gallery, ya dummies.

Until next time!

Mighty Cockblock