So, a lot of people these days have been asking my opinion on the whole 30 Chick Flicks thing. Having dated and drank my way through a hundred or so dates, I’m clearly a very different side of the same coin.

Clearly, I have a different viewpoint on life, and this guy’s doing his own little thing, and that’s fine. But the more and more I read about it in interviews and write ups, the more it just leaves a bad feeling on the tip of my tongue. And it finally hit me why. He’s what every girl claims to want. He’s twenty-eight, married, and in his own-misguided way, doing this to improve his understanding of women. But here’s the thing of it all: It’s saccharine, it’s sweet, and it’s cliche.

This guy is playing the part of the lovable sap, and he wants to improve himself. And he does it in a kooky way, he watches these chick flicks, because God knows the secret to most women is found at the bottom of a Cosmo, and in the hazel eyes of Kate Hudson. And yes, he’s fighting the noble fight, we men are usually bastards who cringe at the mere sight of Matthew Mcconaughey, Mark Ruffalo, and Patrick Dempsey. But it isn’t that we are soulless, molesters-in-training, as Lifetime would have you believe. It’s because these movies are so formulaic and straightforward. Boy meets girl. Boy doesn’t have it together, so boy loses girl. Boy makes a big sweeping gesture to prove to girl that he’s better than that.

And I don’t understand how seeing 30 variations on this formula improves your understanding of women. According to interviews, he now has a better understanding of his wife’s body language, and improved his kissing. If it takes Reese Witherspoon to make some men achieve this, so be it. But body language is something that one usually picks up with more familiarity with their partner. So what I am getting is, he just needed to spend some more time snuggling his sweetie. And considering that this was with his wife, I sure hope he wasn’t that clueless before hand. And I’m proud of the guy, really, I know my tolerance for Meg Ryan is not as developed as my tolerance for bourbon and blondes.

It’s a nice story that melts your heart, but it just rings false to me. I guess you are what you surround yourself with, because the whole idea of this is something that has caught unholy amounts of national attention, and the guy will be on shelves within the next six months. It’s the happy ending and the moral, you watch enough movies with your sweetie, you bond. Only, my problem is that this isn’t real life. Most of us don’t just become better people through grand gestures. Life doesn’t follow formulas. We don’t fall for the girl that’s been there all along, we don’t become better people by watching movies. God knows, I wish that my problems could be solved with a boom box and Peter Gabriel, but I keep coming up with Shock The Monkey.

What are your opinions are Team Dillinger or Team Chick Flicks? Weigh in on the comment board.