Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Love & Herbicidal Warfare.

Last night I happened to check my dating site to find an interesting new message. I was intrigued by this one because this guy did something new- he sent me a Youtube link to a song that reminded him of me. Hey, I can get on board with that! I like music. I especially like music that is about me. In fact, I am pretty sure that many famous singers stalk me for musical inspiration. (You hear me, Adele?! I know what you're doing. Strumming my pain with your fingers, singing my life with your words. It's cool, I guess. Something to tell the grandkids about someday.)

Anyways, let's see if this guy chose an appropriate song for me. I will accept "You Are So Beautiful", "Your Song", or "Let The Bodies Hit The Floor".




Arward, did you send me R.E.M.'s "Orange Crush"?? Really? Really? It's fairly common knowledge that "Orange Crush" is about Agent Orange, right? So, do my photos make you think of herbicidal warfare? Arward...are you planning to bomb my apartment with chemicals, thus smoking me out of my home and causing me to run into your arms?

Google thinks that there are many ways to interpret the lyrics to "Orange Crush", so let's give you the benefit of the doubt and see if any of these other explanations are a bit more flattering.

Theory #1: "Orange Crush is the most kickass orange soda on the planet! It's kinda hard to find, but once you taste it you'll never drink any other orange soda."

Theory #2: "In California where the 5, 22 and 57 freeways meet, notorious for traffic congestion."

Theory #3: "When there are three people in the back seat of a car, the two by the windows will shout "Orange Crush", and then crush the person in the middle."

Theory #4: "When an orange surprise goes horribly, horribly wrong, and an orangutan bites ones penis."

You know what, let's just stick with the Vietnam theory. First of all, I prefer Sunkist to Orange Crush any day, I've hated driving in California ever since I found myself driving the wrong way down a four lane highway in L.A., I have super pointy hip bones so just go ahead and try to crush me in the back seat of a car, and finally, I'm going to have to defend the orangutan because it sounds like you had it coming.

You should have just gone with this song, because quite honestly, it is more romantic than Vietnam:


Deleted.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Read This. Or Not.

You know, people are insane. It's the second reason in my long list of reasons why I'm terrified to ever have kids. Either my kid is going to be subjected to lunatics all of his/her life, or my kid will be the lunatic. Sadly, I'm not sure which one is more likely. I tend to think that I'm not one of the crazy people, but I'm pretty sure that's what a lot of crazy people say. The point is just that people are insane, and I imagine that they have a club with regular meetings and newsletters, and this man is the president.

Why do I sense so much anger? You're really selling yourself. Or not. From the get-go you are presenting yourself as incredibly conceited, implying that unworthy women are constantly vying for your affection. I just find that difficult to swallow. If you truly are so amazing, I can't imagine why you are refusing to share a photo of yourself with me. Furthermore, you don't even know me and you are treating me like a contestant on Singled Out. You are in NO position to tell me that I have to prove anything to you in order for you to throw some love at me. You contacted me, bud. Why don't you give me a reason to not delete this message? Also, don't throw things at me.

I also feel like you think you are very deep, but the insight you are dishing out is both rude and untrue. Honesty starts with what I really want? I can't define who or what I'm looking for into words? Wrong. Honesty starts with not lying. And I actually can define what I'm looking for using my words, which is why I filled out this dating profile. I imagine that in your crazy person club, the motto is something like "Clubs cannot be defined, they come from within. If you want to apply for membership, don't."

So, the most important thing about a relationship is spending time together, is it? What about compatability? Shared hobbies? A similar sense of humor? Communication? No, I suppose those don't matter as long as you spend crazy amounts of time together. Even if you are both miserable. You know, going by that logic you may as well kidnap your dream woman and hold her captive in your basement. She probably won't be thrilled at first, but after a few years she'll realize that the time spent in your basement being unhappy and resentful has blossomed into affection! She will exude maturity and selflessness and profess her undying love for you. Then, and only then, can you throw some love back at her.

Getting deleted starts with you.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Repeat Offenders.

A lot of the guys on these dating sites are pretty damn persistent. Or stupid. I always wonder if they are intentionally e-mailing me again and again and again, or if they just e-mail so many girls on a daily basis that they have no clue who they have already contacted. This is not a good technique. I don't know if they know this, but most people kind of want to feel special. This doesn't make me feel special:


Well Dan, thanks for shuffling the order of the words around a bit on your second try, but I'm gonna have to decline.

Here's another good example:



This one pissed me off from the get-go. Don't you tell me to tell you about myself. That's not how this works, jackass. It's very complicated, I know, but allow me to lay it out for you:

Step 1: Read my profile.
Step 2: If interested, message me.

That's all. That's really all you have to do. What you have illustrated to me here is that two-parter projects are overwhelming for you, so you just do one part of it all half-assed and then you expect the other person to pick up the slack. You are now making it so I have to go to your profile and read it to see if I even want to bother writing back to you, and then I have to reiterate most of what was in my profile because you didn't bother to look at it, and then send you the damn message. Since that's clearly a load of shit, I ignored your e-mail. Over the next three days you sent me three more e-mails. Now, did you forget that you had already contacted me? I don't think this is the case, because you did switch up the content of your e-mail drastically on your second attempt...but then you hit a wall. Creating two different e-mail messages short circuited your brain, so you just kept sending me the second one over and over, because clearly it is the superior message. What girl doesn't like to be called "sweetheart" by a stranger? Personally, I live for it, muffin.

Now here is a repeat offender who definitely sent me all this crap on purpose:


This string of e-mails left me feeling very Circle-of-Life-ish. It's like in the span of three e-mails you met me, we had our first fight, and we broke up. Except I wasn't involved in any of it.

Finally, there's Larry:


Hey Larry. So, I know that you read my profile because you made that hilarious joke about feeding me a cheeseburger, indicating that you know I am vegan. You have convinced me that dating you would be an absolute riot, I mean, think of all the jokes you can make in the future! "What are you going to do for dinner, graze in the backyard?" "We were meant to eat animals because they are made out of meat!" Just shut up. You're unoriginal and your joke sucks. Furthermore, I hate the use of LOL in any context at all, but you have gone and tainted it even more by slapping it on the end of that remark.

I didn't respond to that horrible e-mail, so you put Plan B into action. You waited a day, just in case I was the moron in this scenario and I needed a full 24 hours to fully appreciate your joke, and sent me ANOTHER freaking LOL. And an ellipses. LARRY, COME ON. Let me tell you a story. I used to have a roommate who laughed like a lunatic at every cliche joke uttered in any movie or TV show ever made, and then when a joke came along that was a bit of a thinker, she was silent. The issue here was that when she was laughing hysterically at the super obvious, stupid joke, she would send some judgemental glances my way, and occasionally say "Do you get it?", as if the reason that I wasn't joining her in her lunacy was because of my stupidity, and not my superior wit. It was really hard for me to not get all up in her grill and scream "I'M NOT LAUGHING BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUNNY! YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!", but I never did that because I'm not great with confrontation. However, Larry, this blog empowers me to tell you that you really, really, really are not funny. I am funny. You are not funny. Just me.

If it weren't for my incredible morals, I'd be an excellent cyber bully. Similarly, if it weren't for my many insecurities, I'd be super conceded.

Good riddance, Lar.

Deleted.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Fact: I'm Not Interested.

I frequently recieve e-mails with a single question or comment in them that really don't do much in terms of starting an engaging conversation, and I find myself wondering what the desired outcome actually is when a guy sends me one of these e-mails. For example, this is a crappy first e-mail: "I saw that you lived in Colorado, nice." This one opens a few more doors: "Hey, I saw that you lived in Colorado, nice! Where did you live? Do you miss it?" Do you follow? When I receive crappy non-engaging e-mails, I often think that it would be fun to respond to them on their level, using just a few non-engaging words of my own, to teach them a lesson about proper first e-mail etiquette.



That's great, good luck.


CVS.


Oh? Thank you for the fact. I like dogs but my sheets have snowmen on them. Fact.

Do you see what I'm saying? These e-mails, while they are able to boast containing multiple words, are not drawing me in to any sort of dialogue. Imagine if we were having this conversation in person, say in a bar, and these guys were hitting on me. After I tell this guy that my sunglasses are from CVS (circa 1999) then we are left with some awkwardness. I'm not feeling inspired to continue this conversation about my sunglasses and I'm sure as hell not giving them to you. The only message that may have my attention for a few minutes if delivered in person is the whole "My name is Vincent but Paul is my middle name." thing, because...what? Why are you telling me that? Stop it.

Here are a few more, just for funsies:


Um, no. Classy.


Booyah.


Not very. My apartment is extremely drafty.


No.

Deleted.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Be Honest.

I tend to think that the guys who e-mail me on these dating sites must be in some freakishly dim-witted minority because it's really rare to interact with such an incredible idiot in the real world, but then I stop and count the number of moronic e-mails compared to the number of decent e-mails (and trust me, the bar is set pretty low) and I begin to feel afraid. It's like when you think about alien abductions, and you're thinking "Sure, they obviously happen, but mostly just in Arizona, so we're fine." but then you start doing the research and all of a sudden woah! There's a crop circle in Texas. Bam! Strange activity in the skies over Florida. Shit! ROSWELL?! Did you even SEE The Fourth Kind?! Aliens, like idiots, are everywhere. I believe.


Were you going to try to be witty and charming? Were you, Phil? Because it seems like you gave up pretty quick. If you're not actually going to make any effort to be witty or charming, then just spare me the build up. Why do you have to let me know what I'm missing out on? It's cruel.

Ok, well at least you have another edgy and shocking approach to this e-mail: honesty. The fact that you feel the need to tell me that you are going to try being honest in this e-mail kind of makes me think that honesty is something you struggle with. Most people don't have to preface their honest statements with "Guys, I'm really gonna try to be honest now."

So, you're not witty or charming, but you do love to laugh and you are quick with a joke, but your joke won't be good. Honesty isn't really working out for you, Phil. I'd try lying a little bit, because you just aren't selling yourself.

I see that you want a girl who is sweet, honest (there you go with the honesty thing again), caring, smart, has a great sense of humor, and is easy to talk to. That's a mighty long list for a guy who isn't charming or witty, who can't tell a good joke but who apparently laughs like a jackass at everything everyone else says, and who just isn't very intelligent. If I have to lower my bar, you definitely have to lower yours.

Deleted.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

I'm Real.

I've found that a lot of people on these dating sites specify that they are looking for someone real. I mean, I get what they are trying to say with that, I just think that it's a stupid way to phrase your desire to find an honest, sincere, ethical partner in life. Don't ask me if I'm real. I mean, are we having some sort of philosophical debate? If so, I'm going with Edgar Allen Poe and saying that it's all a dream within a dream. Are you testing my familiarity with J. Lo hits? If that is the case, then I will admit that perhaps "I'm Real" made an appearance on one or more mix tapes back in high school, and obviously it was the Ja Rule remix with all of the swear words, and yes my friends and I blasted that song while driving around town in an old brown Volvo, but I still judge you for bringing up the song, albeit a classic, in this online dating context.



In all fairness, guy, there's a really good chance that those boring, lame, cliche, try hard girls are being real. No one really strives for any of those qualities, so it seems unlikely that they are faking you out in any way by pretending to be boring, lame, etc. And I think I mentioned this in a previous blog post, but I have been referred to as an emotionless robot in the past, so you actually may not be very astute in thinking that I am the real girl you have been searching the internets for.

Let's check out another one!

I wonder if this guy's stupidity is in any way related to his heartworm? He also appears to be a stalker. I just feel like this profile is 50% stupid, 30% cliche, and 20% threatening. Being a real woman and not a robot, computer, roomba, or inflatable doll, my brain computes that as unattractive.

Deleted.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

$cash$

Well, last night the hubcaps were stolen off of my highly desirable 2001 Toyota Corolla and then I went to sleep only to have a horrifying dream that I was bleeding out of my belly button and no one in the hospital would take me seriously and they put me in a semi-collapsed wheel chair that I kept falling out of and then I woke up and thought "this will probably not be a great day." Alas, I was wrong. Look at this e-mail, and keep in mind that this post is a two-parter:


First of all, buddy, this is a dating website and somehow you've made me feel like I'm in a J.G. Wentworth commercial. "Call J.G. Wentwoooorth, 877-CASH-NOW!" Also, I'm not really model material. And I believe the age limit on America's Next Top Model is 27 (not that I've ever even seen that show and I certainly didn't have to refrain from just writing ANTM because I'm so familiar with it.) So.... what's your angle? Let's check out your profile for a little insight:


Again, I feel the need to remind you that this is a dating website. Anyways, let's dissect this profile. Your interests are mostly just brands, do you know that? That doesn't lead me to believe that you are an individual with much depth.

If you are a professional modeling scout, as you say, then why exactly are you soliciting clients on a dating website?! You're not fooling anyone. Just because you toss an inappropriately capitalized "Professional" into your profile doesn't mean that you are one. I watch a lot of Lifetime, Law and Order and Criminal Minds, and if they have taught me one thing it's that this is the set-up for a crime. You know who would never forgive me for falling for this? Derek Morgan. Dr. Spencer Reid. ELLIOT STABLER. All important figures in my life.

I am, however, intrigued by all of this talk of financial gain and the many dollar signs you have used to confirm that you are indeed a professional and that a date with you would equal many dollars for me. Perhaps if this photo shoot could be done with some class, I would be willing to look past the fact that there's an 87% chance that you are the next Craigslist Killer, who I will fondly nickname eMurderer (like eHarmony, get it?).

Wait. WAIT. Not only will this photoshoot involve bathing suits and lingerie, but I have to bring my own?? No deal, eMurderer. That's where you lose me.

Deleted.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

A Poem.

Clearly I'm not a big fan of guys who put no effort into their messages to me, so I was conflicted as to whether or not I should make fun of this poem. The guy obviously put in some effort, and you know what they say, A for effort, right? But hey, it's not like the first line of said poem begs me not to mock it.


How uncomfortable.

Anyways, I'm just gonna come right out with it. That was NOT a good poem. In fact, you spelled poem wrong. In some places it actually rhymes, which leads me to believe that rhyming is your intention throughout this poem, which then leads me to believe that you are an idiot because going with that logic you also thought "you" and "well" rhyme.

Was this emotional vomit induced by my profile? Did it make you "fell" some vibes? I guess I'm going to have to switch up my photos if this is what I'm doing to people. Awkwardly enough, I do know what you mean about my eyes pulling you closer. Years ago I had spider venom injected into my eyeballs and now they occasionally shoot spidey-web at unsuspecting strangers and pull them close to me. Sorry. Oh, you say that I have actually blinded you as well. This makes the spelling errors more forgivable, but not the content.

Also, how do you know how I carry myself? Are you stalking me? If so, you must also be mocking me. I HAVE SCOLIOSIS. God.

Deleted.