Kids these days: what is up with their love lives? Well, it's complicated.

This just in: According to Blake Lively, Blake Lively has never been on a date, ever.

Atlantic City: the biggest shithole on the East Coast, where blocks of open-air crack markets immediately give way to cut-rate seedy casinos full of doomed and hopeless poverty-level day trippers in a geographic continuum of vice and despair unequaled anywhere in its chemical spill-laden state of New Jersey. Now it's easier to have your wedding there. Alert your spouse-to-be.

We know how it is. You were raised completely by the internet, your entire personality is an online creation, and though you're suave on IM, the prospect of chatting up a girl in person is a strange and terrifying prospect. Some of you have been reduced to paying hundreds of dollars to professional wingpersons to help you approach women in public. Fret not, lovelorn computer aliens. Help is here.

Tacoma Community College music instructor Kevin Gausepohl has some unconventional ideas about vocal instruction. But let's not dismiss them out of hand.

Are you married? Sucker. I mean, congratulations. Sucker. In olden times men and women would agree to be joined in matrimony forever—the men receiving a regular source of sexual congress and a valuable allegiance to powerful land-owning families in nearby regions, and the women receiving a new pot and pan. Today: married people are nearly a minority. So close!!!!

Kelly Evans is a financial columnist for the Wall Street Journal. Unlike most columnists, she arrives at work at 6:45 a.m. That's because Kelly Evans has a second job: she's the co-anchor for the Journal's 8:30 a.m. video newscast, the "News Hub," which plays on the WSJ's homepage just as thousands upon thousands of readers are reading their morning financial news. How many of those traders and brokers and analysts and corporate office drones have fallen in love?

Yesterday, we noted that financial professionals make horrible boyfriends. But they're not always horrible in the sense that they might follow you across the Atlantic ocean and leave a tracking device in your bag—sometimes they're horrible in the sense that they send you 1,600-word emails asking why you haven't called them back after one date.

A few years ago, some dude actually found his "dream girl"—meaning some pretty girl he happened to spot on the New York subway—by drawing a picture of her, making a website, and watching it go viral. That had, at least, the whiff of being a clever idea with a happy ending. Then there's this.

Benetton, the advertising company that also allegedly makes clothes, has some new ads. You'll never guess what is happening in these ads: world leaders traditionally considered to be enemies are depicted kissing each other. The tagline: "UNHATE." We think that means: don't hate each other, we're all humans trying to get by on this crazy rock one day at a time, amirite? Although we can't be sure.

While American society has traditionally eschewed the practice of setting elderly people adrift on floating chunks of ice, we have embraced the next best thing: sequestering old people in their own buildings, communities, or suburbs, and ignoring them completely. Who knows, or cares, what they are up to? We prefer to focus on the youthful and ostensibly sexually available people pictured on the teevee.

Here's a good story to lead off the inevitable Times trend piece about protesters finding love at Occupy Wall Street: Boy spots girl being arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge. Boy posts Craigslist missed connection.

British website Veggiedates makes it clear right in its tagline: "Find your veggie dates." Sounds hot! Until you find out that the site was actually full of grease-hungry meat-scarfing savages. Sounds not!

In the "olden days" of this great nation—when we still had that pioneering spirit—young Americans, upon turning 14 or whatever, would immediately get married, have a bunch of kids, and settle into a life of poverty, scratching a living from the harsh and pitiless soil. Things change! Now we're all too fat to scratch anything from the soil. We scratch our poverty-level subsistence from Wal-Mart. And we're free to marry people of different races! But we're all still poor.

In our ongoing quest to be servicey and fill the maddening expanse of open pixels with something—anything—that might be useful to you, the reader, it's time for another edition of "Advice questions, reconsidered." Today: coupons! Dating! Cheapness! Sexxx!

Here's a pro-tip for all you would-be romantics out there: If your girlfriend has taken out a restraining order against you, show up on her doorstep with some friends to play her some Dylan tunes! No, wait—don't. Don't do that.

Rebels ransacking Libyan ruler Muammar Qaddafi's compound found a strange artifact yesterday: A big album of close-up pics of former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. Even brutal dictators have schoolboy crushes, apparently.

Allison Samuels is a senior writer at Newsweek. Shaquille O'Neal is a very large former basketball player. Together, they are: super friends!

What happens when America's calmest woman falls in love with America's most hilariously entitled dude? They get married! She gets pregnant! He cheats on her and leaves her! And then, letters like this, to Washington Post advice columnist Carolyn Hax:

What has 26 year-old Lee Grace Dougherty been up to lately? Oh just going on an interstate crime spree with her two brothers (including the one who tried to sexxx up an 11 year-old girl from MySpace) involving shooting up a cop car with an AK-47 and robbing a bank with machine guns and becoming the target of an intense FBI search and also become the most wanted fugitives in the South, because Lee is from Florida, naturally, and also a stripper, not that that matters in this particular case. But she has the most important thing: an extremely calm man.