Archive | March, 2015

Back to Blogging… FTW

29 Mar

wrongchoiceI read a Facebook post today with a debate of what FTW stands for. I found it aptly appropriate today because it can honestly stand for ‘For the Win’ or ‘Fuck the World’. That sums up my mixed emotions about dating. I included a lovely little clip of someone who wanted me to drive on base and ‘cum cuddle’ with him. I swear to you, that is what he wrote. First and foremost, anyone who writes cum in place of come is infantile and obnoxious. Let alone, why would you want to cuddle up to someone you just met?

I can’t stand grown adult men who write like 13 year old boys. I watched my son laugh and giggle until he couldn’t breathe over words that could be of a sexual nature. He’s 13 and just say the word ‘penis’ in his presence and he will spend hours regaling you with jokes he’s learned.

What grown ass man would speak like that to a woman he potentially wants to meet and/or date. I mean seriously, grow up. His profile said 37. THIRTY SEVEN. Please excuse me while I go jump off the nearest bridge and weep for my dating prospects. What the fuck people?

Oh, and I tried Tinder. I may never wash the stench of creepy ick factor that came from that app. Just the volume alone of horny, lonely, depressing men left me wondering if there was in fact date-able life after all. I have a screen shot but I won’t post it. A lovely gentleman actually decided to send me a video of how he liked his appendage to be blown. I kid you not. It’s epic, I laughed so hard, I damn near peed myself.

So, here I am, back to dating, and I have to tell you. I haven’t laughed so much in days.

PS. Though I may just have a coffee date today.




And The Beat Goes On…

12 Mar


Life takes a moment every now and again to remind me how funny it is. So this is me, talking to a guy. He tells me to call out sick. Seriously what kind of people live in this world that feel its okay to jeopardize your job to ‘hang out’. I’m hip to your lingo sir…

A friend of mine said she’d rather just be single than deal with the seven levels of Hell that is dating and with prime choices like the one above, I cant say as I blame her.  The previous lines that didn’t fit in the screenshot were him saying hello to me for the first time.

I’m fairly popular today. A 22 year old chatted me up, then got quiet… Probably when he realized I’m old enough to be his mother. (almost). He was at least polite and literate. Then there was a walking poster board for high blood pressure. His face was so red it looked like his eyeballs were going to pop out of his head and steam would erupt from his ears. Men… Hide your crazy at least for the first ten minutes. We are on to your games.

So, its moving weekend and i have no dates planned. Apparently my dating life sucks.


Dating Life… the Sequel

4 Mar

downloadApparently my dating limit is three months. It takes me three long months to realize I made a truly bad decision about who I want to share my time with. You’d think I’d be able to figure this shit out in about twenty minutes. When I meet someone for the first time, I can usually tell if I’m going to have anything in common with them. Why then, do I go pick out the desperate and broken? Seriously? Criminal drug addict… check. Disabled alcoholic…. check. Ignorant asshat… check. That’s not even including the married man that snuck in there for a brief moment. In other news, this blog wants me to change snuck to sneaked, and for the life of me, I can’t make sneaked sound right, so snuck is staying. I don’t care if its right or wrong.

Moving on, because I did actually have a point to this blog, that didn’t just question my sanity or judgment. I’ve still kept my Plenty of Fish account open, even though I still get random posts about my breasts by way of greeting, because I want to keep my options open. Sure, I have met every illiterate “single” male from here to Raleigh that finds it acceptable to make demands upon meeting me, but I’m sure there is a diamond in the rough somewhere.

Please God, let there be a diamond in the rough somewhere.

It’s not like my standards are too high… seriously, I could use better standards. I go through days where I convince myself of reasons why I’m perpetually single. The easy… I’m overweight. Not just by a little. This is my go to excuse as to why I’m always going to be alone, and never have that damn white picket fence. Then I realized that Honey BooBoo’s mother managed to find a long term relationship. Then I travel down this road of insecurity. Is it because I’m not pretty? Some days I think I am, others I stare at my flaws. My eyebrows are weird, my teeth are crooked and one is chipped. I break out like a sixteen year old. My nose cheeks, and chest flush red, all the time, even for no reason. I have wrinkles on my forehead, and the reason I smile all the time is vanity because my mouth has a natural downward shape.

Maybe its my personality. Insecurity does make me say stupid things. I could go on and on about how I’m sabotaging my own dating life, but in reality, I just think that I have expectations of how things should be, and I’m disappointed when they aren’t so.

Or I’m just bat shit crazy.