Keep It In Your Pants, Please 02/17/2010
I recently took a quiz on Facebook. The quiz was expertly titled “How Well Do You Know Men?” My score? 0% - Pathetic (their words, not mine). I proudly posted my score for all to see finding it amusing yet realizing that that one quiz pretty much summed up my entire dating and relationship history. Really giving this trivial yet meaningful quiz a lot of thought I figured the way I had been viewing the opposite sex could actually be flawed. Until 12 hours later when I met Vanilla. In 15 minutes of being face to face with Vanilla I was proven that my initial assumptions had been correct all along and that Facebook was full of shit. As with any other dating site, much of my time is spent weeding through the social retards and leather wearing, motorcycle riding grandfathers trying to reclaim their youth till you find somebody that doesn’t make you cringe or vomit in your mouth a little. Receiving an email from Vanilla and not feeling the need to leave the table was definitely a good sign. He was tall, brunette, had abs you could wash clothes on and biceps that looked as though lifting my big ass would be a piece of cake. He had all his teeth, lived locally and apparently was a chubby chaser. Yay me! I think. Draw backs included being six years younger than me and him only looking to “hang out”. Still, I responded back. Thanks to unemployment and a sudden appearance of one of my Wisdom teeth I put my newfound love interest on the backburner. This wasn’t good enough for him. The moment he knew there was a spark of interest he was relentless. Daily emails and miraculously, every time I logged onto the site he was there. If he weren’t so damn hot I would have avoided him like the plague. However, due to my circumstances I could see how I might have been coming across as a tad flaky so I cut him some extra slack for being so tenacious. If the situation had been reversed I would have already probably written myself off. I gave Vanilla my phone number and let him call me. The initial conversation was decent. I’m not sure if he was trying to assure me or compliment me by telling me how much he loved women with “meat on their bones”. But his emphasis on the matter made me feel a tad uncomfortable. I’m not a freak, I’m not a circus monkey, and I’m not required to purchase two plane seats so he could have left it at “I like thick women”. Once I was able to direct him from the size of my ass the conversation flowed smoothly. A few nights later we decided to meet for an impromptu late night snack. We chose a café close by and I arrived a few minutes early and prayed that things would go well. A few minutes later he pulled up. We both got out of our cars and despite him looking skinnier than his pictures he was still very cute. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me close to him and tried to kiss me. Wait, what?!? This would have been great if we were in the midst of a Harlequin Romance but we had just met. I gave him a quick hug and gently removed his hands from my hips. He checked me out from head to toe in a way that made me feel as though I were livestock and started to growl his approval. Yes, I said growl. Trying to get out of such direct scrutiny I suggested we go inside for a cup of coffee. He said we would “in a minute”. Changing the subject from my curves to his upcoming birthday he made a very fateful decision. He started complaining about turning 26 and how old he was going to be. With disdain, I reminded him that I myself was 31 and that being 25 was by no means anywhere near old. To counter, he told me that the aging process was different for women than it was for men. I agreed, pointing out that in the battle of age men were usually the benefactors and women were usually stuck trying to reverse the process. Think Phyllis Diller v. Sean Connery. Who’s sexier? I think you see where I’m going with this. To make things worse, he started to rub himself. And by “himself” I really mean his junk. The growling started up again and he told me he couldn’t help himself because I was so damn sexy. With disbelief, I caught myself saying “What are you doing? You can’t pull that out HERE!” At which point he told me that I needed to “see it”. I assured him that I had seen plenty of Peni in my day and that NO, I did not need to see his. As if things couldn’t get any more awkward he asked how close I lived and if we could go there. According to Vanilla, he wouldn’t be able to have a decent conversation with me unless he had a “release”. All the while trying to grab at me and bring me closer to him. And yes, we were still in the parking lot. I decided it was time for me to extract myself out of this particular situation…and FAST. I told him I needed to go and started walking back to my car. The last words I heard escape his suddenly childish pouty lips as I disappeared into the distance were… ”you aren’t going to call me, are you…?” I’m sure the closing of my car door answered that question. Buh bye. Two weeks later, I got this: Him: U still want to meet babe? Me: What do you mean? We already met... Him: like hang out Me: I think I'm going to pass but good luck to you... Folks, I can’t make this shit up… Eharmony Owes Me A Refund 02/09/2010
Eharmony makes finding “the one” seem so easy. However, in a nutshell, this was my overall experience with it. I spent a week filling out a Christian based questionnaire just to determine that I would be compatible with someone that “liked to laugh” and “enjoyed spending time with family and friends”. You don’t say. After that, they took it upon themselves to determine that “My type” were short men from anywhere BUT California. To say that eHarmony was not a success for me would be the ultimate understatement. I didn’t always feel so unEharmonious. At first, I was curious to see what this “relationship site” had in store for me. After all, I have tried just about every other site known to man with no luck other than learning how to put a condom on without any hands. Which I suppose is a fantastic talent if you get paid for that sort of thing. Given the hefty price tag, I thought I would get something out of Eharmony. In the beginning, I wasn’t at all pleased to learn that the control had been taken out of my hands. But I went with it in the hopes that perhaps trying a different approach might give me a different result. When I was contacted by Smother Guy my hopes were lifted thinking maybe Dr. Neil Clark was onto something. SG had one picture posted, with two men, both blond. Neither one was specifically my type but they weren’t horrendous either. And my communications with SG had been going so well that I was intrigued to see this through. Once we switched to Instant Messaging and to the phone my fate was sealed. I was sold. Hook, line and sinker. 6’2”, built like a linebacker, former marine and the sense of humor that would make Ben Stein crack a smile. My dress would be white, bridesmaids were picked and the wedding invitations were ready to be sent out. Everything was perfect except….I still had to actually MEET this guy. What could go wrong? We met for dinner and as expected had a great time. He wasn’t actually the one in the picture that I was expecting but he was funny and that goes a long way with me. We did some bar hopping and ended the night with a kiss. There was certainly no doubt about whether or not I would be seeing this guy again. The only drawback at this point was that he lived about an hour away from me. Which during rush hour was easily doubled but I didn’t mind so much considering it was only a matter of time before our relationship became legal and I moved in. Shut up. Second date I drove to him. We’d decided on dinner and a movie at his place which was pretty much code for dinner and some sexy time. I was game. I don’t believe in wasting time. If I want you, you’ll know it. Dinner started off great. Until my big boy started to sweat while eating. Not a good sign. With that, my inner bitch kicked in. It wasn’t my fault that we were sitting in a booth with unfortunate lighting that showed his thinning hair. I began to channel the words of my mother, and sister…and girlfriends…and, well, just about everybody I knew, saying “Stop being so damn picky! You’ll never find a man if you don’t change your way of thinking!” So, I handed him a napkin and told him to scoot over. We went back to his place, had a few drinks and started a movie. It wasn’t long before Don Juan put the moves on me. I had long forgotten the dinner episode agreeing with the voices in my head that I needed to lighten up. I jumped on top and as soon as he said these words I almost jumped back off… “Use me like a shake and bake bag” HUH? I’ve heard a lot of lines in my day. Most of them cheesy but this one was Swiss, cheddar and Muenster all rolled into one. I was so glad that he actually repeated it for me to fully understand what a smooth talker he was. But again, I’d already had our wedding invitations printed and stamped so I wasn’t ready to bail on this guy just yet. He was still salvageable. Positions reversed and clothes off we let the good times roll. Until I realized one very important and life threatening element. I couldn’t breathe. No, I don’t have asthma or any other type of health condition that would make it difficult for me to catch my breath. What I had here was a clear case of bigmanlayingonmychest-idis. Being as this was our first (and LAST) time I didn’t really want to ruin the moment by telling him, oh you know, that I couldn’t BREATHE. I assumed he would eventually want to switch things up a little bit and I would be no worse for the wear. But no, apparently, big boy was about as Catholic as they come and didn’t believe in changing positions. As the life force was slowly leaving my body I wondered if this was what autoerotic asphyxiation felt like? I found it hard to believe that somebody would intentionally cut off their source of air to reach climax. I for one was definitely NOT going to be getting off. Then as if things couldn’t get any worse, he tried to kiss me. Blocking my sole remaining access to the sweet oxygen I so longingly desired. I used my remaining energy and with one last final attempt to save my own life I pushed the mother fucker off of me. As I inhaled deeply savoring that I was still alive he lay next to me smiling. His response? “I wore you out, huh?” Had I not just suffered a near death experience and was still out of breath my words most certainly would have been strong enough to make Andrew Dice Clay cringe. Being as it was dark in his room he couldn’t see the daggers my eyes were throwing him. He had almost smothered me to death and then thought I was the one that couldn’t keep up! Being as I’m a drinker, I knew that this relationship would have to plateaus at the friendship level. Just as it’s not wise to get drunk in a hot tub it also wouldn’t be the best decision to drink and screw with this guy either. What if I had been drunk? I could have passed out and he would have kept right on going. Not even knowing that he was screwing a corpse. Nope, that thought wasn’t pretty the first time I had it either. We stayed in contact but I was so traumatized by that one episode that I made no further attempts at trying to see him. Sure, he tried to make me jealous and often brought up how much fun our bedroom gymnastics had been (for him) and how much he could teach ME (Please, don’t do me any favors). At one point, as if trying to raise his own stock, he told me that he was a member of the mile high club. Not once, but twice. I find this hard to believe being as I have flown many a flight and I have also seen him. Airplane bathrooms couldn’t hold him and another person any more than I can share clothes with Kate Moss. He eventually moved up north and got himself a girlfriend. He was not shy about sharing their active sex life with me every time I asked how the weather was. He once shared with me that the neighbors probably wished for them to keep their windows closed because of all the noise they made. I can’t help but thinking the lucky woman wasn’t moaning with delight but actually screaming out for help. They’ve since broken up and I wonder if “broke up” is just another way of saying she’s dead. So, thank you Eharmony. $100 and a crushed lung later, I’m still single and deathly afraid to log onto your site for fear of what else you have awaiting me. www.AdultMingleSingle.com - For the adult in you... Bitter Much? 01/25/2010
I received an email the other day from this gentleman (I use the term loosely) and just had to share it. By the end of the very first sentence you’ll know why. You will probably also know why he is still single… "O.K all for the new year I'm making it a point to not accept anything less than what I desrve,That being said there is no polite way to say no fat chicks so I'll just say it:)I have been on many dates from these sites with women that post great pics and when they show up they are 50 to 100 pounds overwieght which they hide well in pics and write about how they keep in shape???Then think we are to dumb to notice.So please if you are not in shape within reason do not contact me( Sorry attraction is not a choice)It has been almost a year since I've had a sexual encounters ( Mostly by choice)And if it's another year before I find a LADY worth my affections so be it:) I'm not, I repeat NOT looking to just hook up.I do however look forward to the day I finally find a woman that has what it takes to be my girl:)But the longer it goes the more frustrating it becomes when I meet the bad types:(I am swiftly losing interest in this whole on line dating thing.I'm going to give this site till the end of Jan. then close the account:(WOW how hard is it to find ONE great gal???No pressure girls:) So here is the rest about me: I read every profile I find interesting before I contact a woman(Not just the pics:) It is a numbers game I contact a very few and even fewer get back to me yet I don't take it personally this is getting a bit old:( I'm very affectionate and love a cuddly woman:)VERY hard to find the right one:( I am seeking a long term relationship:)( But not in a rush to find it I'm a hopless romantic seeking the same:) I love to cook and told I do it well:) I'm very kind hearted looking for the same in a LADY:) I'm very affectionate(with the right woman)Love to cuddle.OH I mentioned that:) I enjoy doing sweet things for a LADY I care about:) I'm seeking a LADY that will do the sweet things too:) I do not sweat the small things,seeking the same:)PLEASE no more drama queens I'm a manly man looking for a LADY girly girl:) I do stand up comedy seeking a #1 fan:) as I will be hers:) A little about you: Attractive both inside and out:) PLEASE no more fat chicks!! I know it pisses some off but it's just rediculous A hopeless romantic:) Not into DRAMA:)Can't stress that enough:) Take care of youself,physically and emotionally:) PLEASE no more big drinkers( Not for me to hang out with drunks:) Not a vegitarian,I enjoy meat and won't change that. A girly girl,Please no more tom boys. Please you must own as many dresses as you do jeans:) If you are sexually repressed or have excess baggage,no need to apply:) Please no more mommies with young kids:( I enjoy life without the screaming kids:)It is amazing what people let thier kids get away with these days:(If you ever see my stand up comedy act you'll see how I've turned all this negative into a great and funny set:)If nothing else I'm getting alot of great material for my act:) In the interest of finding that one special LADY I put all this here in hopes of weeding out the types that are not for me.I enjoy that feeling you get when you have found a person that just makes your heart beat swiftly when you see each other,I have an affinaty for picinics,and romantic walks on the beach,cooking a great meal for a gal and having her enjoy it along with candle lite:)And just talking for hours and enjoying it:)I'm just looking for a LADY that is worth my affections:) Are there any more romantic sweet girly girls left in the world??? are you her???Well if you think so you may contact me now... All others I bid you well in your search and good luck fishing:) Wow! Just Wow! Who knew that comedian was actually spelled A-S-S-H-O-L-E? “Funnyguy” emailed me saying he thought I was funny and charming. After reading through his profile I can say without a doubt that the feeling is clearly one sided. Maybe if right out of the gate he didn’t actually write “no fat chicks” I might have been able to overlook his preoccupation with “girly girls”. I might have even been able to overlook his ridiculous holier than thou attitude about a woman being good enough and “having what it takes” to be his girl. I’d also like to point something out here. Funnyguy is no George Clooney or Brad Pitt. He’s more like their second cousin, twice removed on the side of the family that still thinks Suburban bench seats are more than acceptable to use as porch furniture. He does however have this to say… “If you ever see my stand up comedy act you'll see how I've turned all this negative into a great and funny set:)” It would have been nice if he could have put some of that so called humor into his profile. Instead, he just came across to me as a bitter, egotistical douchebag with gender role issues afraid of anything larger than a size four. And if I’ve learned one thing about human nature, it’s usually he who doth protest too much that is truly hiding something. And did he really just write…”I have an affinaty for picinics,and romantic walks on the beach,cooking a great meal for a gal and having her enjoy it along with candle lite:)”? This guy can’t be for real. I would have hoped him being in Stand up and all that he would have been able to list something a little more original that the long walk on the beach bullshit. And just for the record, I can't think of a single "manly man" (as he puts it) that uses so many damn smily faces! I wish him luck in finding his robot. The 10 Minute Man 01/22/2010
I just had the shortest date in history. It lasted all of 10 minutes, tops. My gut told me not to bother. My head said, I’ll never find “the one” if I don’t put myself out there. I must have received half a dozen emails, at least, from the Minute Man before I finally responded. He wasn’t bad looking, he was tall and he had a good career. I suppose it was his ego that got to me. He promised me a good time and said he would “spoil” me. However, even those proclamations weren’t enough to get my attention and keep it. The moment the words “You’ll fall in love with me” and “I’m a catch” came out of his mouth I knew our pseudo relationship was doomed from the start. I immediately had flashbacks fromNigeria 2 and we all know how well that turned out. In our phone conversation I felt like I was being interrogated. He bragged about his career in film making and living in Hollywood. It was almost as though he were measuring me up to see if I was good enough to justify bringing into his lifestyle. I made no apologies and tried to end the call. I was most certainly even less interested in meeting with him now after speaking with him than before when I had been inundated with his promises that after meeting him things would just get better and better. The whole time I was thinking “If you are so fucking perfect then why are you single and on Match.com?” He called me a few times after our initial phone conversation and I received a few texts. I was slow in my responses, if I even bothered responding at all. I figured he would just give up. A little lonely and desperately trying to get somebody else out of my head I finally relented to a meeting. I called him up and thought maybe a second conversation might not be that bad of an idea. What if he actually was a decent guy? I would never know because I might not have been in the best mood the first time we spoke. However, the moment he called me “darling” and “sweetie” I knew that my initial reaction of the Minute Man had been correct. There was just something “off” about him. BUT…I decided to meet him anyway. Figuring that dating is just a numbers game I thought maybe spending 30 minutes with this guy would better my chances for the next time I went out with a new man. Who knows? I might actually make a new friend. We met at Starbucks. Three minutes after I arrived, he pulled up next to me. I jumped out with a smile on my face. He stalled. I hoped it wasn’t because he was disappointed. He got out of his Jeep and gave me a hug. He stood there with a stupid grin on his face staring at me. I wasn’t sure if it was a pity grin or a grin that he wanted to carve me up and serve with Fava Beans and a nice chianti. He said he was finally glad to meet “somebody so stubborn” as he called me. He asked what I was doing later, where I lived and made small talk about never having been to North Hollywood and how strange it was. Considering he lives on Hollywood Blvd I found the comment retarded and lame. And that was it. He said that he had just wanted to come meet me and that he was back off to work. That. Was. It. We never even left the parking lot. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and got back into his car. I wasn’t really disappointed. After being called darling so many times I truly thought he was a 6’5” black guy on the down low. The only thing that ran through my head at that moment after being dissed was… What a fucking waste of makeup! I Love To Hate You, Plenty Of Fish... 01/22/2010
Here are some of my latest batch of Plentyoffish.com’s emails. If this is the best of the best then it looks like I’m going to be single for a lonnnng time! If it weren’t so damn tempting to sit in my PJ’s and critique men I would have given up long ago. But I’m a hopeless romantic (translation: Lazy and broke) so I just keep on keepin on. Hi there, how are you doing? just saw your page and wanted to say "HI" I am here in LA overnight on a layover. What are you up to today?MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!! Benny **Benny lives in Missouri. Knowing he’s from out of state and he’s only going to be here for a few hours I basically took this as him wanting a quick romp in the hay. I know I may be presuming too much here but he is after all, a guy. I highly doubt he wants to spend his few hours in LA meeting a stranger and discussing the pros and cons of stem cell research. No, I will not be hooking up with Mr. Layover. Frankly, he was giving himself too much credit thinking I would even consider it. Not with that face only a mother could love. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wow, after reading everything you wrote, it's no surprise to me at all that you are here on this site loking for men dumb enough to want to put up with you! **39 years old, never married, no kids, works in IT, has only one picture posted, “A few extra pounds” and has this to say about himself: “I go to the local Bally's fitness place a few times a week to get in shape and lose some weight. I moved out here to North Hollywood about 10 months ago. I do some movie / tv work whenever possible. If you work with or have any interest in movies / tv, that'll be something we have in common.” Great, an overweight wannabe actor with no sense of humor. Just in case he wasn’t already not interested I would have passed on Mr. Double Chin. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I don't know if i've ever read a personal ad s painfully funny or brutally honest....WOW!!! i'm torn between applauding and turnng and running as far and as fast as i can. Seriously though, props o you for owning your sh*tand having ovaries big enough to put it out there tht kind of blunt, bare bones sincerity can only come from a true saggitarian.I"d like to invite you to view my profile and see if you might be interested in starting a friendl dialog and see where it goes from there.hope to hear from you soon. **There is nothing more endearing to me than being told I have big ovaries. Actually, I thought the email was amusing. Unfortunately, I’m not remotely attracted to him and he doesn’t want children. Plus, his profile says that he’s 39 but he has this written at the bottom of his page: “UPDATE: I AM 47 YEARS OLD...THE SYSTEM WONT LET ME CHANGE MY AGE.” Sure bub, I’m supposed to believe that you accidentally entered your age eight years younger than you really are AND that the system won’t allow you to change it. I was born at night but not last night, idiot. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hey you... My name is Daniel, I am Puerto Rican and Jamaican, 6' and 180... I like your profile. I thought that was pretty comical. I am surprised you haven't been wifed up by now. **28 years old, working towards his Masters, has a decent profile with no typos and good grammar…so why does he insist on posting a picture that makes him look like a wannabe gangster? So confused. Profile says educated and literate. Picture says “wut up booooooooiiii” I just can’t get interested in a guy when I can’t tell if he is wants to recite poetry to me or take me on a drive by shooting. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hey there this is Nick, wow you are extremely hot ;0. i see you live in North Hollywood, same here iam off of Vineland and Oxnard. and if you are wondering why iam writing you is that I ONLY DATE OLDER WOMEN. so write me back and let me know what you thinkNick xoxo **I will not be going out with Nick either. I refuse to go out with a man that has his hometown initials (in his case “LA”), R.I.P. or anything in Old English tattooed anywhere on his body. Nick has all three. Here’s his short but titillating profile: ” WELL Iam 6'3, blonde hair, tan, green eyes, got alot of tattoos... I play on a adult hockey leauge in Torrance. iam 1 of the sales rep managers @ Vivid Entertainment .. i dirtbike atleast once a week... i surf everyday at El Porto and love to just go and relax and watch the sunset at the beach” **No thank you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Then there was the email from “Loverlover69”. Of course, Mr. 69 says his first date would be this: “dinner over a glass of wine, then off to the movies,after which we go for a walk on the beach in the moonlight.” **Something about his Username and walk on the beach crap doesn’t add up. I’m calling bullshit. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Gorgeous eyes, beautiful hair fantastic smile. You must be a GODDESS!!! **He would be correct ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HI, I normally don't take the time to actually write a email onPOF. But after reading your profile, and then seeing whom wroteit, I so wanted to say hi and see how your night was going? Yourvery attractive. Hope to hear from you soon sweetie. :) James **He doesn’t “normally take the time to actually write an email”? Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t that the whole purpose of finding a date online? You email somebody or they email you and things go from there? Frankly, this guy just isn’t good looking enough and his profile isn’t anything special either (I think he could have done better than 2 sentences about chemistry) for women to be banging down his door with written invitations. Am I supposed to be flattered that Mr. I Don’t Make A First Move decided to break his rule by emailing me? Well, I’m not. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I also got ANOTHER email from this guy… “Hi im DeanI live in Granada Hills and work in Glendale for a majorentertainment company as a professional.I am also a veteran.I am open to new things.I hope to hear from you.” I must have received at least half a dozen emails from this guy since February when I first signed up with PoF and they always sound as though it's his first time contacting me. Looks like I’m going to have to actually respond to him. I’ll just make sure to block him after I’ve sent it. If I’ve learned anything from the past, it’s that any response (even negative ones) can be misconstrued as open invitations to converse. I’m. Just. Not. Interested. And I don’t see that changing…EVER. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I chose not to mention all the hideous spelling and bad grammar but rest assured I noticed all of it. I’m not sure what it is about emailing somebody through an online dating site that turns people into insta-tards but one would think if that’s the first impression you are going to be making at least TRY and spell half way decently. Especially if you are claiming to be a writer, a business owner, an EXECUTIVE, etc….and spare me your shortcut emails and ghetto lingo. Dear Junk 12/29/2009
www.MingleSingle.co.uk - The UK's fastest growing dating site Register FREE Dear Junk, I realize that it’s part of the evolutionary process for you to grow hair but at some point you need to stop. If your hair is long enough to require shampoo AND conditioner than that should be your first clue that it is entirely too long. If your hair is long enough to run your fingers through and can stretch up your happy trail to your belly button then that is your second clue. This next part is for your owner… Dear Junk’s Owner, Just because the hair may be thinning on the top of your head and you can count the hairs on your chest with the fingers of your right hand does NOT mean that you should embrace the mass of locks beneath the belt. As a male you probably prefer, if not require your women to be trimmed. Some even bare. Newsflash, women enjoy the same courtesy. Gentleman owner, let me enlighten you on a few things. We as women are a complicated species, as I’m sure you are perfectly aware. Without even traveling south there is a list longer than the Great Wall of China that needs to be accomplished before even heading down to trim the mane. Faces alone we have to battle crow’s feet, blemishes, wrinkles, dry skin, oily skin, COMBINATION skin. Eye cream, face bleach, moisturizer, special face wash, masks, exfoliants, botox, the list goes on and on. Don’t even get me started on the women that have to wax or bleach their upper lip. Luckily, as a blonde, I don’t have to worry about that but I truly feel for the women that do and I’m sorry for outing you, ladies. Once we’ve mastered the skincare regiment we have hair. If your hair is dry you need to moisturize it. If it’s oily you need to be wary of conditioner. To blow it dry or make it curly we need to add product. We need to color and maintain and often times our hair stylists are putting their kids through college on our dime. Most of us will probably even be invited to their college graduations. Do you know how expensive this shit costs?!? But those things are just the base. The canvas you might say. Then comes the makeup. A tube of lipstick can cost thirty fucking dollars! Then we have foundation, concealer, powder, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, eyebrow pencils, lipstick, lip gloss, lip PLUMPER. We as women spend more money on the part of the body above the neck than rent. It’s a process and not one that I’m going to bitch about because it is also one of the wonderful things about being a woman. We get to play dress up on a daily basis. As women, we are artists trying to make ourselves look better to catch the eye of anyone willing to look. Consider that the next time you ask us “why does it take you SO long to get ready?” Let me continue. Once we’ve perfected the art of hair and makeup we move south. Everything needs to be shaved and waxed within an inch of its life. Armpits, sometimes the arms themselves, legs, feet…TOES! We tan, we exfoliate, we lather ourselves with oils and moisturizers to keep the sagging at bay, disguise cellulite and to be soft to the touch. Even after all that, we get to the bikini area. That’s a whole different Oprah. In order to maintain the secret garden we as women do horrific and barbaric things to the one part of our body that we can’t even see without a mirror. We take razors to an area so delicate going by nothing more than the sense of touch. We fold ourselves into Kama Sutra positions in front of the mirror trying to make sure we didn’t miss a spot. We use creams to DI-SIN-TE-GRATE the hair! If we choose not to shave or dissolve our southern tresses then we WAX! Remember the movie “The 40 Year Old Virgin”? Imagine somebody taking hot wax to your nut sack and ripping the hair right out of the follicles all on the count of three. And now, I’m going to let you gentlemen in on a little secret. The hair doesn’t just grow on the sides of our pretty little lips. Oh no. It grows everywhere! Up towards your belly button all the way down your crack. Ever get a brazillion or Playboy wax? Didn’t think so, men. I ask you to try getting your butthole waxed, paying $100 and still trying to keep a smile on your face. Why don’t you try it sometime? I guarantee you will have nightmares and trouble sitting for weeks. I’ll spare you on our need for shoes, clothing and the perfect $50 bra that makes us look as though we just had a boob job. Nevermind that we can’t breath but we do it for YOU. But, for all this work we do to maintain ourselves for those that get to see us in the buff all we ask is that you take five fucking minutes and trim your Goddamn pubes. I don’t want to get hair in my teeth and I don’t particularly like sucking on hair. Nothing like wiping wet hair out of my face when I’m trying to make you feel good. I’m not asking for you to shave it all off... I’m simply asking you to trim your fucking junk! PLEASE. Kisses, MMM P.S. Although, men for the most part are aware of and appreciate what we as women go through and do take part in the art of manscaping, there are the unfortunate few who do not. This letter is dedicated to the clueless. To manscapers everywhere, I salute you and truly appreciate the hard work you put into maintaining yourselves so that for those of us that venture to the South Pole (pun totally intended) we aren’t forced to gag on your Dial flavored locks. And to women that don’t mind a flowing mane of pubic hair, I apologize for generalizing by saying “we, as women”. www.AdultMingleSingle.com - For the adult in you... Christmas Eve In A Nutshell 12/28/2009
www.MingleSingle.co.uk - The UK's fastest growing dating site Register FREE I’m the oldest of four children and by far the least accomplished as was brought to my attention by my Aunt Betty’s endearing Christmas Eve toast: “A toast to Cindy for getting accepted into the college of her choice AND for getting a scholarship! …and to Nick for actually meeting a girl and for making it through two years at college! …to Rosy for working at Memorial Hospital for almost two years now as a nurse! …and to Joe (my sister, Rosy’s husband) for getting hired by the police department this year! (Cheering and clapping followed by a long, hard blank stare in my direction) …and to Melisa… (Crickets) (Chirping) (Loudly) …to Melisa…Gosh! We just love you!” Nothing strokes your ego when you are already feeling the bitter loneliness of the holidays like a fucking pity toast. And that was just the beginning of the evening. The rest didn’t fair much better for my already deflated level of confidence. But, all is not lost, I got a Snuggie, a sewing machine and lots of chocolate for Christmas. So now, instead of a man I’ll have my Snuggie to keep me warm, the chocolate to keep my endorphins up and a sewing machine to let all my clothes out once I’ve eaten my way through See’s Candy. Looking forward to the New Year…In a BAD way! www.AdultMingleSingle.com - For the adult in you... Yet Another Shirtless Idiot... 12/15/2009
www.MingleSingle.co.uk - The UK's fastest growing dating site Register FREE  First of all, yay me for finally figuring out how to post a picture on this blog. Secondly, I apologize that this was the first picture to post. Less than 12 hours after posting my Profile Pet Peeves, I received the above picture via text message. Sometimes one really has to wonder about the timing in which things occur. Didn’t I just write “put your fucking shirt back on?” Let’s cut the crap. Mr. Morning Wood is a fucking moron. I don’t know what is more stupid. The fact that despite not having been out with Wood in almost four years he still deemed it necessary to try and poke my eye out or that he sent this picture to five other women in addition to me. That’s right, he sent this gem wishing us all a “Good Morning, lol” to six ladies. Any guy in his right mind should know better than to give the special six access to each others phone numbers. I guess this picture alone is proof that when a man has a hard on the blood rushes from his brain down to his nether regions. I’m not going to suddenly claim I’m a prude (you guys know me better than that). I have received such pictures before, sometimes upon request even, but this gratuitous morning wood picture is too much and sort of, well…random, to say the least. Let me give you some background on Mr. Wood. Match.com was our matchmaker. The first two things I noticed about him were his biceps and his love of reality television (sometimes I just can’t get enough of watching people act retarded on national TV). Upon first meeting in person he appeared to be everything he had claimed to be only with a weaker chin but I could over look that minor detail because he had amazing pecs. We went out a few times but he was just shy of a two year relationship so I was a tad weary and decided that it might be in my best interest to let this one die down before I found myself too attached. We managed to remain in contact, often by IM or email but nothing more came of this great love connection. He also happened to live about 45 minutes away from me and he didn’t seem to be making that much of an attempt to visit me on my end. It wasn’t until I found him on Myspace did I get the full picture at how dramatic and needy this guy truly was. What was news to me was the way he proclaimed his love for the new girl in his life. I was slightly surprised and a little disappointed but somewhat taken aback by his declarations of love for the girl with too much eyeliner. I will also make a mention that despite her having a nicer figure than yours truly, I was (and still am) way better looking. Come on ladies, you know there is something cathartic about being better looking than a guys ex or even current girlfriend. I sent him an email to congratulate him and get the scoop as I was entirely curious as to what I had missed just since the last time we had been in contact. He immediately wrote back saying that I shouldn’t congratulate him just yet as he and his girl “were off and on like a light switch”. I found that to be a rather pessimistic view of things and wondered to myself why he would stay in a relationship where it was clear that things weren’t going to work out. Sure enough, one week later, all signs of her had been erased from his profile and he was listed as single. A week after that? You guessed it. He was in love again. Two weeks after that? Single. It is safe to assume you know where this is going? He picked up on his text messages to me yet I was none to eager to meet up with him again. Every time I declined he would get pissy saying that I was a typical game playing woman. I’m sure he didn’t consider that he only texted me last minute when I had already made plans. I had also just moved an additional 30 minutes away from him. He was clearly not into driving out to my neck of the woods and I certainly didn’t have any desire to trek an hour and 15 minutes to listen to him bitch and moan about his ex and how she had done him wrong. Mmm, a bitter man that’s too lazy to drive, despite how many times I have driven to him…no thank you. At one point, he even asked me to leave a comment on his page saying that I was looking forward to meeting him for drinks later. Knowing we had no such plans, I saw his little ploy for exactly what it was. An attempt to make the ex jealous. Now why on heaven’s green earth would I want to get myself involved in that stupid love triangle. I have enough issues of my own. So, here we are two years later after having found him on Myspace. The ex and he got back together (big surprise) and she moved in with him. They had a son and have now split for good as of about nine months ago. He constantly leaves me (and many other women) cheesy comments on Myspace. I can tell this by the responses he gets back. I guess this is his way at receiving the attention he needs from the opposite sex. I find it a turn off that a man that is 36 years old needs Myspace to fulfill his need for attention. Oh, and one more thing…even when he was “in love” with Max Factor he never actually took his profile off of Match.com. I’ll also let you know that he hasn’t changed it a bit since I actually met him…5 YEARS AGO! For your reading pleasure I present you with Mr. Morning Wood’s Match.com profile: “Hello, I'm an honest man and i don't use out-dated pictures to represent myself. The oldest picture is 2 1/2 years old which is my main picture. The last several are mid January 2006 from one of my cruises which incidentally is not usually how I have my hair as it's way too short for my liking. I love cruises and have been on a 5, 7, 8, 10, 11 day cruises all within 3 years from the Bahamas to Mexico to Hawaii. I try and keep in shape and my body tan working out at least twice a week and my main employment is working in my home office selling full-time I was just recently released from a 2nd job due to facility closure of the postal service and I didn't accept a further assignment. My dad is from “Some place in Asia” and my mother is from “Hickville” (yes, I changed the locations) I'm not a big fan of "chatting" and am very spontaneous and am looking for the same. Would much prefer to meet for a coffee or a drink to get to know someone. Musically my favorite current artist is: Rob Thomas/Matchbox Twenty. My all-time favorite artist is: Elvis Presley. I own a condo in "BFE" and drive a Tundra and a Mercedes and I mention this just to show personality and not to brag, some have commented that I shouldn't list what I drive or where I live but I say if I was bragging I would said I live in Malibu and drive a Ferrari, right? If you like to be impulsive and spontaneous, give me a wink and lets hang out. Thanks for your time in reading” P.S. Contrary to popular belief, I should also let you know that I never even slept with this guy. www.AdultMingleSingle.com - For the adult in you... 0nline Dating Profile Pet Peeves 12/11/2009
People that claim to have MBA’s yet can’t figure out basic grammar or how to spell. Case in point, I was emailed by a guy that said he had graduated from Harvard and did undergrad at the University of Texas yet didn’t believe in periods and randomly ended and started paragraphs on a whim. Sure you graduated from Harvard, honey.
Tell me…what bothers you??? P.S. On a side note, just as I finished writing this I received an email from a guy named “RoBeRT *SwAg Is On PoINt*” and his email was in all CAPS. Seriously folks, I can’t make this stuff up. Me Shallow, You Young Buck 12/11/2009
I really hate to kick a dead horse but I once again feel it absolutely necessary to share with you the latest batch of text messages fromWestside Story. If only just to show you that I’m not crazy! He really is that cheesy. So here goes… WSS: How are you today? Me: Fine. And you? WSS: Well…I DID get paid today. And I SUPPOSE I could be talked into making lasagna later, or something. *trying not to be a pest* Me: Sorry babe but I’m stuffed. I made myself a dinner of Snickers bars and Reese’s peanut butter cups. WSS: Lol who said I wanted to share?! *being smartass* I was just looking for an angle. Me: I see WSS: I figure it’s a delicate balance between keeping you entertained by my attraction and being bored. I expect I can get away with pushing my luck a LITTLE. Haha Me: Maybe another time WSS: Ok, but give me an excuse not to hit on you. Cause it’s a strong impulse on my part. And there you have it, folks *swallowing my own vomit* Now, for the story you’ve all been waiting for. My shallow hookup with a 26 year old. I’ve taken to calling him Youngbuck. So, despite his inability to write out an educated coherent email he was certainly able to hold his own during an actual conversation. We seemed to be on the same page in regards to dating, relationships and life in general. I was pleasantly surprised. If he looked even half as good in person as he did in his posted pictures I was in for a real treat. We met a few nights later and guess what? He did! He looked just like his pictures. I was getting the real deal. We had a few drinks and got to know each other a little better. In the back of my head I kept waiting for him to call me “dude” or “hooka” but not once did those words slip from his pretty pouty lips. But as there usually is, there was just one thing… His eyes. Youngbuck was wearing a pair of sunglasses. Inside. At night. Or rather they were tinted glasses? Not quite David Caruso style but just enough where I couldn’t look him in the eye when talking to him. At first it wasn’t such a big deal but after a while it really began to get on my nerves. I’d seen his pictures and I knew that he had both eyes. He didn’t seem to have a lazy eye either so I was seriously confused. So much so that I was losing my train of thought while trying to unleash my super power of being able to look through steel and tinted glass. Finally, after I was tired of having a conversation with a reflection of myself I asked him if he could take off his glasses. He explained to me that his eyesight was poor and without them he wouldn’t be able to see. I figured that would be perfect. I would be able to take off my makeup and put on my PJ’s without him noticing. Yep, I’m classy like that. He didn’t buy it. So, the glasses stayed on. Here’s where it gets weird(er). He left the glasses on during sex. Oh, sorry, I didn’t give you much of a heads up on that one, did I? Would you have expected anything less from me than to end up in bed? Please. I cut him some slack on the glasses in my living room but the bedroom? How bad does your eyesight have to be to wear glasses during sex? Plus, if his glasses are tinted and my bedroom lights are out, then chances are you can’t see shit, right? But, I let it drop because he was a good ride. Here’s where our age difference becomes apparent. He’s 26, I’m 32 (as of last Friday, fuck you very much). I’m all for a good romp in the sack but this guy takes it to a whole new level. He is single handedly keeping Trojan in business. Seriously. Five times in one night?!? He even woke me up at 2:30 in the morning to get his groove on. Hello lube. He’s come over twice after that and it’s the same thing. For God’s sake! In three dates I’m over it. I enjoy his company but just getting a text message from him makes my coochy dry up and crawl inside my uterus. I never thought in my wildest dreams I would ever be tired of sex. Quick, if you look out your window I’ll bet you see that pig flying too. As is my luck, on date number three, Youngbuck told me that he “really” liked me and was having “feelings”. Ugh. Really? Now what? Nice guy or not, that “spark” is just not there with him either. I don’t know why but it isn’t. Perhaps I’m holding onto the romantic notion of chemistry a little too much but the moment he mentioned “settling down” with him, my innards curled up and I wanted him out…fast. |