Some men are so disappointing. Scratch that. All men are disappointing. I know, I know, if I’m jaded this early, you probably won’t even want to know me in ten years. I’m just tired of all those men who promise so much and deliver so little.

Get your mind out of the gutter; I mean little in the proverbial sense. But obviously the literal little is a big problem too.

On a basic behavioral level, however, it seems the really attractive ones think they don’t need to impress you with their sensual prowess. Usher comes on, the clothes come off, the games begin … and suddenly your boy toy has been replaced with a starfish. He’s splayed flat, he’s immobile; he just lies there. He’s aesthetically pleasing, but he certainly isn’t sexy. I’ve heard rumors that some Giant Pandas defend themselves by going completely limp. You try to give this 300-pound teddy bear a hug, and it crumples to the ground, playing dead until you give up and go away. You try to embrace your boy, and he slips right out of your arms like a greased pig at the rodeo. It’s cute, and a little bit hilarious, but the sad part is, he isn’t gunning for laughs. In fact, my chuckles actually seem to offend his delicate bamboo-eating sensibilities.

But I’m not laughing anymore. It should never be this hard; I should only have to do half the work. Or 40 percent. Come on, I’m a catch.

So I’ve devised a test:

Good kissers get a second date. Bad kissers get a lesson. Unteachable kissers get a cold midnight walk back to campus.

Kissing is a conversation, folks, and the language isn’t that hard to learn. We’re not speaking in tongues, we’re speaking with them. If you’re no good at the basic two-step, I’m not interested in seeing you try to tango.

If you want a second date, take stock of your skills and hope that you don’t fall into one of the categories of boys who just don’t speak my language:

1. The Chin Licker — My dog licks my chin. And we aren’t comfortable enough to get that kinky yet. My cat licks herself to take a bath, but I showered before you came over. If I were a cat, I’d be insulted: You’re saying I’m dirty. Well, in fact, I may be dirty, but you’ll never know if you keep kissing like this. Keep it contained. A wet face is a cold face, and you want me to think you’re hot. Kiss the neck, nibble the ears, but keep your tongue confined to your mouth (or mine).

2. The Lock Jaw — You are the boy who closes your mouth tight in a spooky pit bull grin when asked to smile for the camera. Open your mouth, please. I don’t want to suck on your lip, and I’m done scrubbing your teeth with my tongue. I get it, you floss. If your jaw locks tight this resolutely, I’m rather nervous to discover what your sharp teeth might clamp down on next.

3. Lizard Tongue — My God, Mick Jagger, how in Heaven’s name does it move that fast!? That’s the really stunning part — the speed at which your tongue darts in and out is so shockingly impressive that it must be rehearsed. You actually think this is a skill, but it’s really more of a traumatic assault. You’ve certainly got the element of surprise on your side, but this is more of a spontaneous human combustion, instantaneous amputation, premature heart attack kind of surprise. This is not an unexpected birthday gift. Stop training your tongue how to twitch faster than Paris Hilton’s coked-up neural circuits. Save your lingual gymnastics for the stage with the Stones.

4. The Excavator — I love food, too, but not the way a baby bird does. My already-eaten lunch shall remain already-eaten, thank you. If you want a midnight snack, please look in my pantry, not in my stomach. The occasional deep kiss is fun, but no deep kiss should trigger my gag reflex. Even I don’t know what my tonsils taste like.

5. Christopher Columbus — My mouth may be uncharted territory, but your tongue doesn’t have to map every corner of it. Leave a few mysteries for Lewis and Clark to discover.

6. The One-Hit Wonder — Well, that’s fun. Oh, okay. Still fun I guess. And again? Really? Okay, fine. No, now stop. Please stop now. Stop doing that thing. STOP. STOP. STOP. You do one thing. And you do it well. And you’re determined to keep doing it until I pull a Mike Tyson on your tongue just to get your attention. Learn some new moves. Take some improv classes. But don’t stick the same trick in my mouth again and expect to pull it out intact.

7. The Crescendo — Red-headed stepchild of the One-Hit-Wonder, the Crescendo starts one place and ends somewhere completely different. Every time. The same humble beginning elicits the same horrifying end. You start with a peck which becomes an open-lipped kiss which becomes a bit of tongue which becomes a lot of tongue which becomes mining for gold which becomes consuming my mouth which becomes devouring my whole head. I’m afraid if I don’t stop you now, your jaw will unhinge like an anaconda, and you’ll swallow me whole. Close your mouth, park your tongue and return to the basics every once in a while. This isn’t the climactic moment of our evening (hopefully), so indulge in a bit of back and forth, some decrescendo and denouement.

Granted, not everyone who passes the entrance exam graduates summa cum laude. But your lingual aptitude bodes well for your libidinous prospects. The subjunctive may take some time, and the vocabulary just takes practice, but if you can learn the basic grammar, I have faith that you can eventually compose corporeal poetry.

Every man speaks his tongue with his own personal flair. I’m not anti-originality, but I am anti-illiteracy. Idioms are one thing, a limited vocabulary is something different, and a second-grade education is an automatic elimination.

To be fair, I’ve encountered some perfectly proper accents that are simply unintelligible; I can tell you’re a good kisser, you just don’t do it my way.

But those who can learn to navigate one domain can probably learn the rest of my territories easily enough. If you get lost, I’ll show you the way. If you’re still floundering, we’ll parse the path together. Then, if you still need a map, I’ll highlight the highway back to the Land of Celibacy.

Chad Callaghan wants you to stop trying to explore his tonsils.