OK Y'all,
So I thought today's post would be a little something for everyone. I recently saw the movie "He's Just Not That Into You" which was adapted from a book by the same name which was written by a guy who coined the term as a writer for Sex and The City. I thought the movie was pretty good, and honestly I thought it should be a primer for every single girl who enters the dating pool. Instead of sex ed in seventh grade, a completely useless exercise in the futility of making teenagers harness their raging hormones long enough to understand WHY humping your girlfriend's leg is far superior to being an after-school special caveat, they should have "Dating 101"starting in fifth grade. Would have saved The Big E much torment and heartache as a young girl with a yen for wrestlers, I'll tell you that much.
Anyhoosle, I thought I would compose my own list of "signs he's just not that into you" for the gals and "signs she's just not that into you" for the fellas. Some of this comes from personal experience. OK, pretty much all of it comes from personal experience. And I also think that in addition to being "not into" someone, I would add in "signs that his/her interest is fading faster than Bruce Willis' hair line in the 90's" because sometimes you don't get the boom lowered on you until it's a little later in the game. So without further ado...
"Signs that He's Just Not That Into You...or Into You Anymore"
1. When you call or text him, he always returns your call or text when you are unavailable. Trust me girls, a guy is not totally clueless. If he's paying even a little bit of attention, he knows when you're supposed to be around and when you're not. The occasional phone tag is to be expected, no one can get to the phone every single time. But when there's a pattern of, "everytime he calls me back, it's after 11 pm" and your bed time is 10, or "he always texts me when I'm at work" and you don't work at a job where you can talk or text during the day, then I'm sorry sweetie, he's not feeling it. Don't make excuses. He's not so busy that he can't make an effort to reach you when you're available or better yet, lucid. He just doesn't care.
2. His gifts become increasingly practical or unromantic. Now, before you go all batshit on me, guys, let me explain. I know that men are not the best gift pickers sometimes. And I know that a lot of the time, it's because women are not the best hint givers. Ladies, do your boyfriend/husband/whatever a favor and TELL him OUTRIGHT what you want for your birthday/anniversary/christmas. I sent my last boyfriend links to the items I wanted from the Victoria's Secret catalog online, complete with size and color preference. And guess what? I got what I wanted for Christmas. It really is that easy. Guys won't complain, and you'll be glad you told him what to get you instead of suffering through yet another argument as to why he can't read your damn mind. BUT, that said, if he starts out gangbusters and really does a good job and then a year or two in starts getting you gift cards to Best Buy or flip flops as a birthday gift when he used to get you flowers and a trip to New York and Company, something's up. I mean, what smart, fun, attractive girl gets flip flops as a birthday gift when they don't come as a precursor to a package deal to Sandals? One that's on her way out, that's who.
3. He tries to get out and you won't let him. If your boyfriend/husband/whatever starts acting shady, it's completely within your rights to ask him why. I'm not talking about him being a little secretive right around your birthday, because there could be an awesome trip to Sandals and/or a surprise party. I'm talking doesn't call when he says he will, breaks plans or stands you up completely at the last minute, starts hanging out with much younger or completely different people type of stuff. And if you call him on the carpet and he starts spouting off some existential bullshit about having a quarter-life or mid-life or I don't have a life crisis, calmly roll out the rest of that carpet and send him packing right down the middle of it. You, hot mama, don't need to beg, plead, or otherwise humiliate yourself by trying to make him change his mind and want to stay. At best, you're guilting him into staying and prolonging the inevitable kiss off even longer. At worst, you'll move on and be happier without that schmuck in your life. Trust me, it only took The Big E three months of begging, pleading, and humiliation to be strung along and ultimately completely blindsided when the boy she was in love with ended up getting engaged and moving in with another woman, all while telling Big E that he "just needed to figure some things out, but I love you and want to be with you as soon as I do." Hard lesson to learn, yes. One I will have to learn again? HELL NO. If he gets over it and comes crawling back, it's up to you. But I'd think twice before putting myself through THAT again.
4. He only dates you after hours, or at your house. Ladies, this may seem like an obvious one, but if he's taking you to out of the way places at an hour when you should be in bed, there's something up. Same rule applies if he only wants to come over to your place, and you've never ever been to his place, or it was one time on a random week night and he acted nervous. I had a very handsome "friend" who would call me up, usually on a Monday, and want to play "music trivia" at his house at like, 9 o'clock. Alone. Why? because his wife was traveling out of town for her job and that was the only time he could see me after his 6 month old baby was asleep. Shady, shady, shady. I went the first time because he made it seem like other people would be there. Then I realized the jig was up, and I have politely excused myself since.
5. He doesn't introduce you to friends or family. This is a corollary to #4 more or less. If he's even the least bit interested in a future with you, he'll want you to meet his friends. His friends are an extension of his family, and in many cases, could be closer to him than family. If he constantly makes excuses as to why you can't meet them or don't want to meet them, he either doesn't have any friends whatsoever, OR he's not feeling it. Same applies for the family. If you've been going out for a while and he won't take you to meet the 'rents, you've got a problem. Namely, he's not feeling it. This applies even to long distance relationships. If he wants you, he will go out of his way to make things happen. Everyone's timeline is different, but if you feel it in your gut that something's not right, then go with it. If it's been a year and you have no idea who his friends or family are, then GET OUT.
"Signs She's Just Not That Into You...or Into You Anymore"
1. She wears sweatpants almost exclusively...even out to dinner. Guys, if your lady is anything like The Big E, she wants to impress you and wants you to be proud to have her on your arm. She will buy a new outfit, which you will probably not even notice, because she wants to look good for her. It would help if you would compliment her when she looks nice, even if it's a run of the mill dinner out, because it does make her feel better, and it could possibly get you laid. In any event, if the nice outfits start dwindling, or if her appearance gets to be more "slatternly" than "flattering," you may want to take stock. Five'll getcha ten, she's not taking the time because her interest is waning or she's feeling taken for granted. Now, on weekends and in the evenings, everyone has to put on their "wallerin' jammies" and lay on the couch some. But if it's every day, all day, take a temp check. She might be running a little low.
2. She doesn't give you her number, just her email address. As a dating site member, I can email potential suitors through their email client. After the exchange of information has reached an acceptable timbre (meaning I don't think you're a psycho and I might be interested in letting you purchase me a drink), I'll either ask for the gentleman's phone number or offer mine. Those who do not get such an invitation are those I don't deem worthy of The Big E's physical presence. So take that as a hint, fellas.
3. She's constantly busy, to the point of not having a spare moment. Especially not for you. Now, there are people out there who lead quite challenging and time-consuming lives, and they have perhaps over-extended themselves on the social calendar. But if they really feel you're worth it, they'll squeeze you in. Drinks, dinner, breakfast, whatever--they'll try their best to find the time to see you. If not, you can probably safely assume that they feel their time is better spent over-extending themselves and not extending invitations to you. Take a hint and just let it go, man.
4. Physical contact is at a minimum. Now I'm not talking about people who have been dating for a while and perhaps the ardor has cooled off enough to let you actually get to know the real them. I'm talking about the first few dates or so. If a girl likes you, she will subconsicously find little ways to touch you. Not like grabbing your crotch or licking your face (though that has been known to convey interest quite effectively), but subtle things like touching your arm when she is telling a story or standing closer to you at the bar so that you brush against her when someone tries to walk past you. If she's not exhibiting any kind of contact, or if her body language is closed off (legs and arms crossed, not making a lot of eye contact, etc.), or if she shakes your hand at the end of the date rather than hugging you, then it's probably time to hang it up and call it a day. Trust me, if we're feeling it, we will--we will--touch you!
5. She picks on you about everything. I have to say this is probably a big fault of mine. When I am not into someone, I pick on every little thing that's wrong with them. It doesn't matter if it's major or minor, I will hone in on it like a fat kid at the buffet. And I tell them every single thing I find wrong. Many, many times. Yes, it's rude and demeaning, and yes, I know it's really a horrible way to treat someone because I would hate to be treated that way myself. I didn't say I was perfect, and I didn't say it was the right thing to do. But if your girl is anything like me, she's just looking for a way out. So give her one.
Alright, that's it folks! Let me know your thoughts or comments!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
What Not To Wear...Or Ever, Ever Do While Dating
OK Ya'll,
so I thought I would write a blog that really shouldn't need to be written. But unfortunately, some people in this world, though they are adults, don't seem to act like it on a date or in the process of trying to date someone. Or don't seem to act like an adult with any common sense, I should say. Hell, I'd take a step out there and say they don't even act like sentient beings half the time. In light of that fact, I'll now regale you with another list of, along with the story behind, many things that have been the undoing of many a poor soul who dared cross the line of acceptability when attempting to date The Big E. Hitch up your shorts and set a spell, this one's a doozy.
1. Don't play your perv card too early. There's a time and place for everything. Even the Bible tells me so. The time to ask your lady companion to hike up her dress and let you look at her in nothing but her leggings is not on the third date, however. Let me back up and tell you about the situation. I went out a couple of times with this guy, we'll call him The Pervinator. First date was fine, dinner and a movie, nothing out of the ordinary. Second date, dinner and then a movie at my house. Now, gentle reader, normally The Big E does not condone inviting a gentleman caller to your home until you have established a higher level of comfort. You always meet the gentleman at your preferred dining establishment, and you always make back up plans, especially on the first date. In this case, and I know this may come as a shock to many of you, I felt somewhat pressured into inviting him over. He seemed to be indirectly hinting toward it, and though I was not 100% comfortable, I invited him anyway. Again, nothing extraordinary, just watched a movie and a kiss goodnight. Third date was a whole other story. This chap lived a fair piece down the road, and The Big E is not averse to traveling for a quality date. But when Cracker Barrel is the nicest place in town for dinner and then you have to travel a minimum of 30 minutes back up off the interstate to get to BFE where your house is, I think I may have to reconsider my travel per diem and save it for a pint of Ben and Jerry's and some High Life. Again, though, Big E felt a little bit pressured to go so she did against her better judgment. And that's when it hit the fan. For starters, his house was dirty. You don't entertain ladies in your bachelor pad with shit strewn all over every available surface. If you don't know how to clean, call your momma to come help. Then he crossed the line.
Strike 1 was when he kept pulling me over on him without provocation, trying to make out with me, saying things like "Give me some love, let's make out, etc etc" to which The Big E said, "no, I'm trying to watch Idol. Back up off me, fool."
Strike 2 was Pervinator's repeated requests to go into his bedroom and lie down to watch television, to which Big E replied "uh, no, I'm not lying in your bed when I barely even know you. Back up off me, fool." As if the refusal to make out would be remedied by a duvet.
Strike 3 was just enough straw to bring this camel's spinal column to a tragic end. Right before I left, Pervinator says to me "why don't you pull your dress up and let me look at you in just your leggings?" Now keep in mind, Big E was clad in a super cute jumper-turtleneck-leggings ensemble with heels, and I am irresistibly cute, but nevertheless...you don't go there. Not on the third date, not without alcohol, and not without prior indication from Big E that asking that type of question may be apropos. Needless to say, none of the aforementioned conditions were met. Big E was aghast and incredulous at such a request and politely declined. The next day, our friend The Pervinator got walking papers via text, and his response was thus: "I didn't force you to do anything." Who the fuck are you--Kobe Bryant? Seriously. Good riddance to bad rubbish, and let that be a lesson to all of you not to play the perv card before it's time and you have express written permission.
2. Don't be an Indian Giver. I recently received an email from a potential suitor from the dating site I'm on, and he looked somewhat promising. The only caveat was that he listed "yes, and they live away from home" in the "got kids?" dept. Big E is not kid-friendly as I've mentioned before, but I'll at least make friends with you for a free drink. After a few email exchanges, the Potential Suitor asks Big E if she'd like to have a drink. I said yes, when is a good time for you, PS? And he emails back a place, time, and description of the vehicle he is driving. On second examination, he then sends another email entitled "Ugh, I hate doing this!" that reads "After I made plans with you, I re-read your profile and I don't think we'll be a good match!" To which I replied "Alrighty then. Good luck and read more carefully next time." What am I supposed to say? That was A. rude and B. in poor taste. I'm glad I didn't get three dates in and start showing off my leggings before he pulled the plug, though.
3. Pay for her drinks, especially if you have a skin condition. The Big E recently met up with another interested party from the online arena at a local dining establishment to have a few cocktails and adult conversation. We'll call this interested party The Cortizone King. Now, in CK's profile and email exchanges, he seemed somewhat intelligent and friendly. What he failed to mention, and I'm not really sure how one would, is that he is covered in a lovely little dermatological issue called eczema. And not just a minor patch here or there that could be remedied by wearing sleeves, but full on face neck arms and hands eczema. Being the complete heartless bitch that I am on the inside, I cringed internally and tried not to stare whilst wrestling with the kind and caring persona I was trying to radiate externally. I thought perhaps multiple libations would help me become more kind, caring, and tolerant. Eight beers in, I had to use my back up option and politely inform my date that I simply must be going because I couldn't take it anymore. It was either hightail it out of there, or start making not-so-freudian slips regarding his epidermis. So what did he do while I excused myself to the restroom? He asked for the check. Separate checks. As in, The Big E sat here for 2.5 hours listening to you talk about Keith Sweat and scratch your crusty self and you can't even buy her two for one Miller Lites? Weak. A friend of mine suggested perhaps he was saving his money to buy Cortizone 10. I told my friend he was going to need a lot more than the $20 it cost for my bar tab.
4. Don't act like your shit doesn't stink. The day after the Eczematic Express rolled on through the station, The Big E had a drink meeting with another candidate for her affection. This bloke looked to be a fun time, had a witty profile, and exhibited a few interesting topics in the email exchange. He was not what you would call a "Dash Riprock" in the Looks Department, but he seemed to be one of those that personality can upgrade. Oh, how quickly the barometer changed. Big E met him at a downtown pub, and upon exchanging pleasantries, launched into the witty banter she's known for. What she gleaned from the responses from her date was that Knoxville is basically the biggest piece of shit place he's ever been and UTK is the biggest piece of shit school he's ever attended. So he automatically earned the moniker "Smuggy Smuggerson." SS proceeded to yammer on about how much better other places he had been were in comparison to our fair burg. I wanted to look at him and say, "You're from FLORIDA for fuck's sake! Nobody thinks anything about Florida is cool except the Golden Girls!" Needless to say, Big E failed to see the superiority of his company and quickly threw his credentials in the Ol' File 13. At least he paid for my drinks.
So, that's just a few little pieces of advice I've got to offer to all you in Datesylvania. Like I said, it's unfortunate that I would even have to dole out such suggestions, but there are those out there who don't seem to grasp the concept of "put your best foot forward," probably because said foot is firmly lodged in their mouth. It's also a cautionary tale in case you were perhaps questioning your dating behavior. Caveat Emptor, friends, and Happy Dating!
so I thought I would write a blog that really shouldn't need to be written. But unfortunately, some people in this world, though they are adults, don't seem to act like it on a date or in the process of trying to date someone. Or don't seem to act like an adult with any common sense, I should say. Hell, I'd take a step out there and say they don't even act like sentient beings half the time. In light of that fact, I'll now regale you with another list of, along with the story behind, many things that have been the undoing of many a poor soul who dared cross the line of acceptability when attempting to date The Big E. Hitch up your shorts and set a spell, this one's a doozy.
1. Don't play your perv card too early. There's a time and place for everything. Even the Bible tells me so. The time to ask your lady companion to hike up her dress and let you look at her in nothing but her leggings is not on the third date, however. Let me back up and tell you about the situation. I went out a couple of times with this guy, we'll call him The Pervinator. First date was fine, dinner and a movie, nothing out of the ordinary. Second date, dinner and then a movie at my house. Now, gentle reader, normally The Big E does not condone inviting a gentleman caller to your home until you have established a higher level of comfort. You always meet the gentleman at your preferred dining establishment, and you always make back up plans, especially on the first date. In this case, and I know this may come as a shock to many of you, I felt somewhat pressured into inviting him over. He seemed to be indirectly hinting toward it, and though I was not 100% comfortable, I invited him anyway. Again, nothing extraordinary, just watched a movie and a kiss goodnight. Third date was a whole other story. This chap lived a fair piece down the road, and The Big E is not averse to traveling for a quality date. But when Cracker Barrel is the nicest place in town for dinner and then you have to travel a minimum of 30 minutes back up off the interstate to get to BFE where your house is, I think I may have to reconsider my travel per diem and save it for a pint of Ben and Jerry's and some High Life. Again, though, Big E felt a little bit pressured to go so she did against her better judgment. And that's when it hit the fan. For starters, his house was dirty. You don't entertain ladies in your bachelor pad with shit strewn all over every available surface. If you don't know how to clean, call your momma to come help. Then he crossed the line.
Strike 1 was when he kept pulling me over on him without provocation, trying to make out with me, saying things like "Give me some love, let's make out, etc etc" to which The Big E said, "no, I'm trying to watch Idol. Back up off me, fool."
Strike 2 was Pervinator's repeated requests to go into his bedroom and lie down to watch television, to which Big E replied "uh, no, I'm not lying in your bed when I barely even know you. Back up off me, fool." As if the refusal to make out would be remedied by a duvet.
Strike 3 was just enough straw to bring this camel's spinal column to a tragic end. Right before I left, Pervinator says to me "why don't you pull your dress up and let me look at you in just your leggings?" Now keep in mind, Big E was clad in a super cute jumper-turtleneck-leggings ensemble with heels, and I am irresistibly cute, but nevertheless...you don't go there. Not on the third date, not without alcohol, and not without prior indication from Big E that asking that type of question may be apropos. Needless to say, none of the aforementioned conditions were met. Big E was aghast and incredulous at such a request and politely declined. The next day, our friend The Pervinator got walking papers via text, and his response was thus: "I didn't force you to do anything." Who the fuck are you--Kobe Bryant? Seriously. Good riddance to bad rubbish, and let that be a lesson to all of you not to play the perv card before it's time and you have express written permission.
2. Don't be an Indian Giver. I recently received an email from a potential suitor from the dating site I'm on, and he looked somewhat promising. The only caveat was that he listed "yes, and they live away from home" in the "got kids?" dept. Big E is not kid-friendly as I've mentioned before, but I'll at least make friends with you for a free drink. After a few email exchanges, the Potential Suitor asks Big E if she'd like to have a drink. I said yes, when is a good time for you, PS? And he emails back a place, time, and description of the vehicle he is driving. On second examination, he then sends another email entitled "Ugh, I hate doing this!" that reads "After I made plans with you, I re-read your profile and I don't think we'll be a good match!" To which I replied "Alrighty then. Good luck and read more carefully next time." What am I supposed to say? That was A. rude and B. in poor taste. I'm glad I didn't get three dates in and start showing off my leggings before he pulled the plug, though.
3. Pay for her drinks, especially if you have a skin condition. The Big E recently met up with another interested party from the online arena at a local dining establishment to have a few cocktails and adult conversation. We'll call this interested party The Cortizone King. Now, in CK's profile and email exchanges, he seemed somewhat intelligent and friendly. What he failed to mention, and I'm not really sure how one would, is that he is covered in a lovely little dermatological issue called eczema. And not just a minor patch here or there that could be remedied by wearing sleeves, but full on face neck arms and hands eczema. Being the complete heartless bitch that I am on the inside, I cringed internally and tried not to stare whilst wrestling with the kind and caring persona I was trying to radiate externally. I thought perhaps multiple libations would help me become more kind, caring, and tolerant. Eight beers in, I had to use my back up option and politely inform my date that I simply must be going because I couldn't take it anymore. It was either hightail it out of there, or start making not-so-freudian slips regarding his epidermis. So what did he do while I excused myself to the restroom? He asked for the check. Separate checks. As in, The Big E sat here for 2.5 hours listening to you talk about Keith Sweat and scratch your crusty self and you can't even buy her two for one Miller Lites? Weak. A friend of mine suggested perhaps he was saving his money to buy Cortizone 10. I told my friend he was going to need a lot more than the $20 it cost for my bar tab.
4. Don't act like your shit doesn't stink. The day after the Eczematic Express rolled on through the station, The Big E had a drink meeting with another candidate for her affection. This bloke looked to be a fun time, had a witty profile, and exhibited a few interesting topics in the email exchange. He was not what you would call a "Dash Riprock" in the Looks Department, but he seemed to be one of those that personality can upgrade. Oh, how quickly the barometer changed. Big E met him at a downtown pub, and upon exchanging pleasantries, launched into the witty banter she's known for. What she gleaned from the responses from her date was that Knoxville is basically the biggest piece of shit place he's ever been and UTK is the biggest piece of shit school he's ever attended. So he automatically earned the moniker "Smuggy Smuggerson." SS proceeded to yammer on about how much better other places he had been were in comparison to our fair burg. I wanted to look at him and say, "You're from FLORIDA for fuck's sake! Nobody thinks anything about Florida is cool except the Golden Girls!" Needless to say, Big E failed to see the superiority of his company and quickly threw his credentials in the Ol' File 13. At least he paid for my drinks.
So, that's just a few little pieces of advice I've got to offer to all you in Datesylvania. Like I said, it's unfortunate that I would even have to dole out such suggestions, but there are those out there who don't seem to grasp the concept of "put your best foot forward," probably because said foot is firmly lodged in their mouth. It's also a cautionary tale in case you were perhaps questioning your dating behavior. Caveat Emptor, friends, and Happy Dating!
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Unbearable Lightness of Being...On a Date
OK Ya'll,
So while I was out testing the waters of the gene pool yet again this weekend, it occurred to me that there are two things absolutely necessary to get through most situations in life, but particularly a new date: a bottle of wine and a good sense of humor. Obviously the wine helps unleash the sense of humor some people are hiding; it can also intensify the one you already have on display. But a sense of humor, not just yours but your date's, is essential for getting past the awkward "Hey, howyadoin'?" introductory jitters and also for taking subsequent awkward situations in stride. I was pleased that my date this weekend thought to offer me both the wine and the good humor. It goes a little something like this....
We met up at Tomato Head for some din-din and conversation. For those of you who have never been to Tomato Head, it is an eclectic little joint that offers tasty food and some pretty decent hippie watching. We were surrounded by no less than three tables of mixed sexual orientation in the 2 hours we were there! One guy looked like Jimmy Buffett, if Jimmy Buffett were being played by Richard Simmons in a made-for-Lifetime-movie. Good stuff.
Anyhooser, the Tomato Head also has artwork festooning their otherwise drab beige walls, and sometimes this artwork is tasteful, sometimes it is complete and utter swill. The particular selection gracing our table fell into the latter category. I took a picture of it with my camera phone, so it's not the best but you can get the gist of it above. I asked my date what he thought the craptastic paint-by-numbers job that we were forced to endure was supposed to be, and together we came up with the following ideas:
1. Randy Owen (the lead singer from Alabama) has a bad manicure and has just busted in on Neo from the Matrix and they're getting ready to duke it out Industrial Light and Magic style.
2. Randy Owen is a werewolf, inexplicably topless but managing to keep on dark denim (so 2 years ago) and is trying to intimidate a disheveled, cardigan-clad Mexican vampire named Luis.
3. Randy Owen and Luis the Mexican vampire are possibly homosexuals and are having a techno dance party, but you can't see the disco ball because it's outside the frame of reference of the picture, though their hands are raised as if they are already sweating to some raunchy Pet Shop Boys remix.
Any other thoughts or suggestions are welcome.
I have no doubt that the bottle of wine being 3/4 gone had a lot to do with the level of participation, but I will have to give the boy props for going along with the madness that is the Mind of The Big E. It's not every day you have a date willing to indulge your sardonic critique of some poor schmuck's ridiculously elementary artwork. Even I know you've got to draw some sort of shadowing beneath a person's feet in a painting or they look like they're levitating. Get serious. And the sad part is, this child wanted $250 for that piece of shit. I wouldn't walk from here to my front door (around 30 feet) to pick it up off the sidewalk for free. But I digress.
I really appreciated my date for being so jovial and willing to go along with me. I also really appreciated that he provided a lovely bottled libation that appealed to my epicurean side while being a participant in our MOMA moment. It was cultured and crass at the same time, which is increasingly hard to find these days. So my advice to you, gentle reader, is this: I would encourage those of you out there who are more or less quirky like me to just let it all hang out. If your date jumps in with both feet and provides more color commentary, fantastique! If not, I'd politely let him pick up the check and then feign an illness or at the very least have backup plans post-date so you don't have to lie. I always make back-up plans with friends, just in case. You never know when you're going to have a stage 5 clinger on your hands or you've got to make a quick getaway because Mr. Diarrhea of the Mouth has just told you all about his quest for the perfect remedy for his raging case of eczema. Or on the off chance that you end up liking the person, you can always invite them along so they can get a sense of what you're like in your natural habitat. It's a win-win most of the time. So, happy dating, and leave me a comment if you want!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Dude...we just got Dorffed!
OK Ya'll,
The theme of this post can best be summed up in the first few lines of "Bust A Move" by Young MC:
This here's a tale for all the fellas
Try to do what those ladies tell us
Get shot down 'cause you're overzealous
Play hard to get females get jealous
Basically, this is a story about a minor brush with fame, and how that minor brush was just as bad as some of you regular guys out there feel you are in the "pick-up line" department. I tell you this to make you feel better about yourselves, guys. Because if this B-lister can't knock the socks off of The Big E, then you've still got a shot. It's also a little bit of a lesson in how to avoid coming across as a douchebag (now in a convenient 2-pack)!
So I was out a couple of winters ago with a couple of girlfriends in Nashville, and these girls and I were looking to "straighten up our act and boogie down" as it were. I'll call my friends "Fran" and "Kat" for posterity's sake. Fran, Kat, and The Big E are a sophisticated bunch, and we are diverse enough to offer a little bit of something for everyone. Fran is oh-so-lovely, lithe, and boho chic; Kat is glam and straight out of Junior League. The Big E, as you know, is a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. So we went to dinner at Sambuca, and then headed over to a dance club/bar called Layla Rul. The upstairs area is where all the action happens--there's a bar (natch) and along the walls are couches and seating areas, and then there are some tables scattered around the dance floor. Fran, Kat, and I perched our fine selves at a table near the dance floor and got us a frosty libation to enjoy whilst we watched all the white people try to shake it like a pen out of ink. And then he appeared....
It was like he just materialized at my elbow. I was sitting by myself across the table from Fran and Kat, and when I looked to my left, he was standing there, all five feet eight inches of him, looking at me. I was about eye level with him because the chair I sat in was one of those high top bar stool jobs. He looked like an aging frat boy with too much hair gel for his rapidly receding hairline, and a unlimited visit membership to the local Suntan Station. He was reasonably cute, but not enough to make The Big E lose her wits. THAT would take someone like, oh, Paul Walker. So he reaches out a hand and says, "Hi, I'm Stephen, I'm from L.A." Now, gentle reader, keep in mind that The Big E has a reputation to uphold, and since I am pretty fab I don't want just any old person knowing my true identity. I mean, Batman doesn't go around introducing himself as Bruce Wayne when he's in full crime-fighting regalia does he? Absolutely not. The Big E is always "Amy from Atlanta" when she is out on the town and surveying her domain. Those who dare approach don't get the real story until they prove themselves worthy.
So I shake his hand and say, "Hi! I'm Amy, I'm from Atlanta." To which he replies, "That's cool. I was born in Atlanta. So how are you ladies doing?" I made small talk with him for a minute before he turns to appraise my two lovely ladyfriends, who I must say were absolutely non-plussed at our visitor's appearance or demeanor. He attempted to make small talk with Kat and Fran to no avail. They rebuffed him as if he were not a B-list star with a questionable taste in fashion and dating choices.
This whole exchange was rather innocuous until he made the mistake of revealing the inner-douchebag too early....
After a couple of dead ends, he looks at Fran and says "Why are you being so mean? I'm like, the best looking guy in here." And then, without warning, he whips his head around in full Blue Steel Zoolander fashion, and gives us his best "reeeally reeeally good-loooking" face as he takes a sip from the teeny-weeny straw in his cocktail and stares us down. It was just like the movies, in slow motion, where the disco ball drops out of the sky, the smoke machine starts churning, and "Dreamweaver" starts playing in the background. He really, honestly, thought he was the shit. He thought that his Magnum look would be all it would take to turn three lovely, confident females into steaming pools of slavering jello. And while I admire his bravado and swagger, alas, he was mistaken. Sorely mistaken, I might add. Homey don't play that.
It was all we could do not to do a spit-take right in his face. Being the calm, cool-as-a-cucumber-in-a-bowl-of-hot-sauce gal that Fran is, she wittily retorted, "I'm not being mean, I'm just not into boys." And somewhere in the distance, I heard the immortal words of Bon Jovi ringing out through the streets of Nashville: SHOT DOOOOOOWN, IN A BLAZE OF GLOOOOORY.... Let me tell ya, brother man could not make his exit stage right fast enough. He skulked off to the other side of the room, behind some roped off section of couches more or less concealed by the security staff. We tried to look and see who else was back there, but we were unsuccessful.
Afterward, I looked at my lady friends and I said, "uh, girls, I think that was Stephen Dorff. Or it looked a lot like him." They were incredulous. So I did some research on the internet, and his stats matched up to what he has listed on imdb. You can check it out here:
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001151/
Fran checked around with a few reliable local gossip sources, and sure enough, Our Boy Dorff was in town that weekend, chillin' with Kid Rock. I guess perhaps they had bonded since they both dated Pam Anderson, and consequently probably both have Hepatitis now. Sucks for them, but thank GAWD we didn't fall for it and end up with a terminal liver illness. We prefer the kind of liver illness you can sleep off and re-hydrate to prevent. Now every time I go to Nashville to visit Fran, I tell her, "Hey! Let's go get Dorffed!" and we just laugh and laugh at how lame he was.
So, like I said, a minor brush with a B-list celebrity, but the moral of the story is this....fellas, if you're genuine, sincere, and friendly, we can't fault you for that. Even if you're not our type, you won't get shot down too harshly because we appreciate your effort. However, if you attempt some serious cockery, acting like you're hot snot on a silver platter when you're just cold boogers on a paper plate, your justice will be swift and it will be blindingly painful. A simple, "Hi, my name is (insert name here). What's yours?" or even better, "I saw you over here and wanted to say hello. Can I buy you a drink?" will suffice. No need to pull out your best David Beckham impersonation, no need to be arrogant, just chill til the next episode. Otherwise you might be asked to borrow your lighter. And when we flick that little flame up in the air and sing "Dream On", you know you've been dismissed.
The theme of this post can best be summed up in the first few lines of "Bust A Move" by Young MC:
This here's a tale for all the fellas
Try to do what those ladies tell us
Get shot down 'cause you're overzealous
Play hard to get females get jealous
Basically, this is a story about a minor brush with fame, and how that minor brush was just as bad as some of you regular guys out there feel you are in the "pick-up line" department. I tell you this to make you feel better about yourselves, guys. Because if this B-lister can't knock the socks off of The Big E, then you've still got a shot. It's also a little bit of a lesson in how to avoid coming across as a douchebag (now in a convenient 2-pack)!
So I was out a couple of winters ago with a couple of girlfriends in Nashville, and these girls and I were looking to "straighten up our act and boogie down" as it were. I'll call my friends "Fran" and "Kat" for posterity's sake. Fran, Kat, and The Big E are a sophisticated bunch, and we are diverse enough to offer a little bit of something for everyone. Fran is oh-so-lovely, lithe, and boho chic; Kat is glam and straight out of Junior League. The Big E, as you know, is a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. So we went to dinner at Sambuca, and then headed over to a dance club/bar called Layla Rul. The upstairs area is where all the action happens--there's a bar (natch) and along the walls are couches and seating areas, and then there are some tables scattered around the dance floor. Fran, Kat, and I perched our fine selves at a table near the dance floor and got us a frosty libation to enjoy whilst we watched all the white people try to shake it like a pen out of ink. And then he appeared....
It was like he just materialized at my elbow. I was sitting by myself across the table from Fran and Kat, and when I looked to my left, he was standing there, all five feet eight inches of him, looking at me. I was about eye level with him because the chair I sat in was one of those high top bar stool jobs. He looked like an aging frat boy with too much hair gel for his rapidly receding hairline, and a unlimited visit membership to the local Suntan Station. He was reasonably cute, but not enough to make The Big E lose her wits. THAT would take someone like, oh, Paul Walker. So he reaches out a hand and says, "Hi, I'm Stephen, I'm from L.A." Now, gentle reader, keep in mind that The Big E has a reputation to uphold, and since I am pretty fab I don't want just any old person knowing my true identity. I mean, Batman doesn't go around introducing himself as Bruce Wayne when he's in full crime-fighting regalia does he? Absolutely not. The Big E is always "Amy from Atlanta" when she is out on the town and surveying her domain. Those who dare approach don't get the real story until they prove themselves worthy.
So I shake his hand and say, "Hi! I'm Amy, I'm from Atlanta." To which he replies, "That's cool. I was born in Atlanta. So how are you ladies doing?" I made small talk with him for a minute before he turns to appraise my two lovely ladyfriends, who I must say were absolutely non-plussed at our visitor's appearance or demeanor. He attempted to make small talk with Kat and Fran to no avail. They rebuffed him as if he were not a B-list star with a questionable taste in fashion and dating choices.
This whole exchange was rather innocuous until he made the mistake of revealing the inner-douchebag too early....
After a couple of dead ends, he looks at Fran and says "Why are you being so mean? I'm like, the best looking guy in here." And then, without warning, he whips his head around in full Blue Steel Zoolander fashion, and gives us his best "reeeally reeeally good-loooking" face as he takes a sip from the teeny-weeny straw in his cocktail and stares us down. It was just like the movies, in slow motion, where the disco ball drops out of the sky, the smoke machine starts churning, and "Dreamweaver" starts playing in the background. He really, honestly, thought he was the shit. He thought that his Magnum look would be all it would take to turn three lovely, confident females into steaming pools of slavering jello. And while I admire his bravado and swagger, alas, he was mistaken. Sorely mistaken, I might add. Homey don't play that.
It was all we could do not to do a spit-take right in his face. Being the calm, cool-as-a-cucumber-in-a-bowl-of-hot-sauce gal that Fran is, she wittily retorted, "I'm not being mean, I'm just not into boys." And somewhere in the distance, I heard the immortal words of Bon Jovi ringing out through the streets of Nashville: SHOT DOOOOOOWN, IN A BLAZE OF GLOOOOORY.... Let me tell ya, brother man could not make his exit stage right fast enough. He skulked off to the other side of the room, behind some roped off section of couches more or less concealed by the security staff. We tried to look and see who else was back there, but we were unsuccessful.
Afterward, I looked at my lady friends and I said, "uh, girls, I think that was Stephen Dorff. Or it looked a lot like him." They were incredulous. So I did some research on the internet, and his stats matched up to what he has listed on imdb. You can check it out here:
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001151/
Fran checked around with a few reliable local gossip sources, and sure enough, Our Boy Dorff was in town that weekend, chillin' with Kid Rock. I guess perhaps they had bonded since they both dated Pam Anderson, and consequently probably both have Hepatitis now. Sucks for them, but thank GAWD we didn't fall for it and end up with a terminal liver illness. We prefer the kind of liver illness you can sleep off and re-hydrate to prevent. Now every time I go to Nashville to visit Fran, I tell her, "Hey! Let's go get Dorffed!" and we just laugh and laugh at how lame he was.
So, like I said, a minor brush with a B-list celebrity, but the moral of the story is this....fellas, if you're genuine, sincere, and friendly, we can't fault you for that. Even if you're not our type, you won't get shot down too harshly because we appreciate your effort. However, if you attempt some serious cockery, acting like you're hot snot on a silver platter when you're just cold boogers on a paper plate, your justice will be swift and it will be blindingly painful. A simple, "Hi, my name is (insert name here). What's yours?" or even better, "I saw you over here and wanted to say hello. Can I buy you a drink?" will suffice. No need to pull out your best David Beckham impersonation, no need to be arrogant, just chill til the next episode. Otherwise you might be asked to borrow your lighter. And when we flick that little flame up in the air and sing "Dream On", you know you've been dismissed.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
We Should Mate...uh...I mean, date
OK Ya'll,
So here recently I signed up for a dating site, just to see what's out there and what kind of ego boost The Big E could get. I'd been on this particular site a few years back, right before I met the King of Shitty Ex-Boyfriends, aka El Douchebag, and I thought I'd check it out again. My previous experience did not yield very good results--I'd gone out with a couple of guys, but nothing worked out. One guy was too young and naive and therefore I felt bad corrupting his pure, white soul, and another guy was decent but short, and unfortunately all his other appendages were as disappointingly as short as he was. So much so that I had resorted to watching tv during the act so both of us could at least feel something somewhere.
Recent experience has not been much better. I signed up sometime around the first of this year, for a 3 month stint in cyberdating and all the accoutrements thereof. I took the time to carefully craft a witty yet intriguing profile best suited to my strengths--namely, sarcasm, devastatingly gorgeous photos, and a smattering of above-average vocabulary skills. As was to be expected in my first few days, I had a couple of takers right off the bat. One who ended up meeting another girl and thus becoming a friend, one who I actually went out with. I'll tell you all about THAT debacle in a later post. Suffice it to say he's not getting another date with Big E. Rather, I'd prefer a restraining order, or at least a thorough psychological evaluation by said dating site before I'd unleash him on the rest of the unsuspecting XX chromosomes out there. I've been on a few more dates with a few more unremarkable fellas since then, and I've actually got another date this weekend. But I digress.
The point of telling you all this is not to brag about my exploits, but rather to inform you of a few pointers that I'd like to share regarding profiles. I highly encourage those of you who are interested in a good laugh and maybe even a guffaw or two to check out a dating site, because entertainment value alone is worth the time you take to create a profile and post it up for the world to see. If you're even halfway serious at all, however, please take into account the following "tips and tricks" The Big E wants to share with you to make your foray into cybersex the best it can be.
1. Men (and I would say ladies too!! *clawing eyes out*) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not post photos of yourself with no shirt on. I don't care if you're Paul Walker or Paul Giamatti--nobody wants to see that!! It's not funny, endearing, or even remotely sexy, so just don't. If for no one else's sake but your dignity's.
2. DO NOT TYPE YOUR WHOLE PROFILE IN ALL CAPS. I know where the caps lock button is, and I know how to gently reach over with my pinky and tap it so that it is not on all the time. The girl who actually takes the time to look at the sad representation of your life in 2000 words or less will thank you, and so will her optometrist, for saving the eyestrain.
3. Conversely, do not type your entire profile in all lower case. And please, for the love of Zeus, use punctuation! I cannot tell you how many profiles I have seen that look like this:
i like to go snowboarding skiing golfing and anything outdoors i am laid back and fun i like to go to the movies...
and so on. Do yourself a favor and familiarize yourself with the Shift key and those lovely little buttons right next to the 'm' on your keyboard. Spelling, not to mention grammar, is important as well. I understand the occasional typo, but for Pete's sake, it is "your" meaning it belongs to you and "you're" to contract the words 'you are.' And 'too' means in addition, or as well as, like "I'd like to date you, too, GoodGrammarGuy29!"; 'to' means going somewhere, or to set off a phrase prepositionally as a modifier, like "I'm going to have to delete you from my favorites, IdiotALLCAPSGuy14".
4. Help a sister out and try to come up with something original to say. There are at least 3 out of 5 profiles I read on a daily basis that start with "I'm a laid-back, fun loving guy who is down to earth.." or "I hate talking about myself on here! What am I supposed to say?"
Well for starters you could say you don't have an original bone in your body and you are probably just as shitty to talk to in person as you are on your 2000 word or less profile. The most read profiles are the ones that grab your attention in the first sentence or two. So in the words of Chaka Khan, tell me something good. Tell me about the coolest place you've ever been. Tell me the craziest thing you've ever done for love. Tell me something besides how effing laid back you are. Because that gets you a little red 'x' for delete faster than anything.
5. DO NOT tell people that your ex-girlfriend is crazy or that you just got out of a really long relationship!! I read one profile that literally said this "well ive been divorced twice and had one broken engagement.." ARE YOU EFFING SERIOUS? NO self respecting girl is going to hitch her caboose to that train wreck. You might as well pack up that moonshine still and head on back to your trailer, Jeb, 'cuz there ain't nobody out there fer ya like yer sister.
6. Have an eye-catching headline that's not so ridiculously overdone that it's lame. If I have to read "Insert Headline Here" or "Hi Ladies!" one more time, I think I will have to get a new motherboard because mine will be fried from vomitous explosion. What about a line from your favorite movie (as long as it's not "Hello, Clarice" or something you watched on your favorite porn channel recently) or a nice quote from your favorite book (assuming you know how to read)? Nobody said you have to be Shakespeare, but do try to put some thought into it.
So that's about all I have to say about creating a dating profile worth reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments though!
So here recently I signed up for a dating site, just to see what's out there and what kind of ego boost The Big E could get. I'd been on this particular site a few years back, right before I met the King of Shitty Ex-Boyfriends, aka El Douchebag, and I thought I'd check it out again. My previous experience did not yield very good results--I'd gone out with a couple of guys, but nothing worked out. One guy was too young and naive and therefore I felt bad corrupting his pure, white soul, and another guy was decent but short, and unfortunately all his other appendages were as disappointingly as short as he was. So much so that I had resorted to watching tv during the act so both of us could at least feel something somewhere.
Recent experience has not been much better. I signed up sometime around the first of this year, for a 3 month stint in cyberdating and all the accoutrements thereof. I took the time to carefully craft a witty yet intriguing profile best suited to my strengths--namely, sarcasm, devastatingly gorgeous photos, and a smattering of above-average vocabulary skills. As was to be expected in my first few days, I had a couple of takers right off the bat. One who ended up meeting another girl and thus becoming a friend, one who I actually went out with. I'll tell you all about THAT debacle in a later post. Suffice it to say he's not getting another date with Big E. Rather, I'd prefer a restraining order, or at least a thorough psychological evaluation by said dating site before I'd unleash him on the rest of the unsuspecting XX chromosomes out there. I've been on a few more dates with a few more unremarkable fellas since then, and I've actually got another date this weekend. But I digress.
The point of telling you all this is not to brag about my exploits, but rather to inform you of a few pointers that I'd like to share regarding profiles. I highly encourage those of you who are interested in a good laugh and maybe even a guffaw or two to check out a dating site, because entertainment value alone is worth the time you take to create a profile and post it up for the world to see. If you're even halfway serious at all, however, please take into account the following "tips and tricks" The Big E wants to share with you to make your foray into cybersex the best it can be.
1. Men (and I would say ladies too!! *clawing eyes out*) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not post photos of yourself with no shirt on. I don't care if you're Paul Walker or Paul Giamatti--nobody wants to see that!! It's not funny, endearing, or even remotely sexy, so just don't. If for no one else's sake but your dignity's.
2. DO NOT TYPE YOUR WHOLE PROFILE IN ALL CAPS. I know where the caps lock button is, and I know how to gently reach over with my pinky and tap it so that it is not on all the time. The girl who actually takes the time to look at the sad representation of your life in 2000 words or less will thank you, and so will her optometrist, for saving the eyestrain.
3. Conversely, do not type your entire profile in all lower case. And please, for the love of Zeus, use punctuation! I cannot tell you how many profiles I have seen that look like this:
i like to go snowboarding skiing golfing and anything outdoors i am laid back and fun i like to go to the movies...
and so on. Do yourself a favor and familiarize yourself with the Shift key and those lovely little buttons right next to the 'm' on your keyboard. Spelling, not to mention grammar, is important as well. I understand the occasional typo, but for Pete's sake, it is "your" meaning it belongs to you and "you're" to contract the words 'you are.' And 'too' means in addition, or as well as, like "I'd like to date you, too, GoodGrammarGuy29!"; 'to' means going somewhere, or to set off a phrase prepositionally as a modifier, like "I'm going to have to delete you from my favorites, IdiotALLCAPSGuy14".
4. Help a sister out and try to come up with something original to say. There are at least 3 out of 5 profiles I read on a daily basis that start with "I'm a laid-back, fun loving guy who is down to earth.." or "I hate talking about myself on here! What am I supposed to say?"
Well for starters you could say you don't have an original bone in your body and you are probably just as shitty to talk to in person as you are on your 2000 word or less profile. The most read profiles are the ones that grab your attention in the first sentence or two. So in the words of Chaka Khan, tell me something good. Tell me about the coolest place you've ever been. Tell me the craziest thing you've ever done for love. Tell me something besides how effing laid back you are. Because that gets you a little red 'x' for delete faster than anything.
5. DO NOT tell people that your ex-girlfriend is crazy or that you just got out of a really long relationship!! I read one profile that literally said this "well ive been divorced twice and had one broken engagement.." ARE YOU EFFING SERIOUS? NO self respecting girl is going to hitch her caboose to that train wreck. You might as well pack up that moonshine still and head on back to your trailer, Jeb, 'cuz there ain't nobody out there fer ya like yer sister.
6. Have an eye-catching headline that's not so ridiculously overdone that it's lame. If I have to read "Insert Headline Here" or "Hi Ladies!" one more time, I think I will have to get a new motherboard because mine will be fried from vomitous explosion. What about a line from your favorite movie (as long as it's not "Hello, Clarice" or something you watched on your favorite porn channel recently) or a nice quote from your favorite book (assuming you know how to read)? Nobody said you have to be Shakespeare, but do try to put some thought into it.
So that's about all I have to say about creating a dating profile worth reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments though!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Dating Application
OK Ya'll (don't I sound like Paula Deen when I say that?),
Here's a little something I created a while back that I really think could help weed out the sick and the old of the herd when it comes to finding a suitable dating partner. Just for shits and giggles.
I'll just tell ya now, I'm not a kid person, I probably don't want any, and I'm fine with that. I'm not in the market for an insta-family. I'm also particularly disapproving of any kind of illicit substance use, even recreationally, in my date. Pre-emptorily, before you email or comment about how uptight I am, think about it from my perspective....do you really want to date some burnout stoner or someone who can't handle stress by any other means than to murder innocent, defenseless brain cells? They could have used those brain cells to come up with a better solution, or cure cancer for Pete's sake!! Gawd. I have plenty of friends who indulge themselves and I don't judge them. I am also not dating them. It's nobody's business what you do with your free time. I like to read dorky teenager books and sing songs to my cats (and then wonder why I'm single), and I'd hope my friends don't hold that against me. So calm down and take it in stride.
Also you're wasting your time by giving me shit for not wanting kids or being kid friendly. I've heard it all before and I remain unmoved. Kids are not for me, end of story.
So here's the dating app. Read it and weep.
Application For Prolonged Entertainment By The Big E
Name (Last, First, Middle)________________________________________________
Preferred Name or Nickname (if it is stupid, I will not call you that) ______________________________________________________________________
Phone number (Home, Cell, and Work—must be reachable at all times) _______________________________________________________________________
Date of Birth_______________________
Body Type/Height_________________________________________________________
Education Level__________________________________________________________
Employment status/type____________________________________________________
Do you enjoy having an adult libation upon occasion? Yes or No
How often?______________________________________________________________
Do you smoke? Yes or No
(if you smoke, please turn in your application immediately. Your services are not needed at this time unless we become desperate for a booty call)
Do you do any kind of recreational drugs, even on occasion? Yes or No
(if you chose yes, please turn in your application immediately. Your services are not needed at this time. Not even for a booty call.)
Date(s) of Prior Relationship (MM/DD/YY) to (MM/DD/YY)
Name of Ex-Girlfriend (Bitchface is not an acceptable answer)_____________________
Why did this relationship end? Be specific and detailed. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Children in the household? If so, please list names, ages, and maternal history:_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
(If you entered any information in the above field for children in the household, please stop writing and turn in your application immediately. Your services will not be needed at this time, although we will keep your application on file for a minimum of 6 (six) months after the date of application should we become desperate for a booty call)
Religious Beliefs (check one)
Baptist
Catholic
Methodist
Presbyterian
None of the Above
(if you entered none of the above, please explain the reason you think you are going to keep your soul out of everlasting torment) ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I am interested in (check all that apply)
Marriage
Short Term (6 mo-1 yr) Dating leading to Marriage
Long Term (1 yr-infinity) Dating leading to Marriage
Booty Call leading to Short and/or Long Term Dating leading to Marriage
I would like to have children (check one)
Yes
No
I don’t mind, it’s up to you, I am fine either way and I will not change my mind later on down the road and say I really wanted kids when I said I didn’t care to begin with.
How many days a week are you interested in intercourse?_______________________
Do you cuddle afterwards? Yes or No
How many days a week do you work out?____________________________________
What kind of foods do you dislike? Be specific.________________________________
What is your stance on paying for dates the majority of the time?___________________________________________________________________
What is your stance on public displays of affection?________________________________________________________________
What is your stance on minor weight gain (5-10 lbs) and major weight gain (15-30 lbs) of your significant other (i.e., Big E)?____________________________________________
Do you remember birthdays, anniversaries, the first date you went on, what she was wearing, and her family’s names and birthdays?
Yes or No
If you do not remember, will you make a concerted effort without being told to remember said things so you do not end up in the doghouse like your friends do? Yes or No
How stingy are you? (check one)
Extremely—I wouldn’t give my own mother a dollar to save her life from a maneating shark.
Somewhat—I will purchase gifts but only if they are under $10
Not at All—I want my woman to have the best of everything on my dime.
How amenable are you to performing favors for your significant other?
I will not help out with anything.
I will do some things, like bring you something to drink, but not others, such as holding your purse at the mall while you try on clothes or housework.
I will do anything and everything—hungry? I’ll cook. Dirty? I’ll clean. Purse? Hand it over and pick out something pretty.
Any other talents or special qualities you feel the Big E should consider in your application review? ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Thank you for taking the time to apply with the Big E. We will contact you as soon as we have made a decision regarding your date worthiness.
Here's a little something I created a while back that I really think could help weed out the sick and the old of the herd when it comes to finding a suitable dating partner. Just for shits and giggles.
I'll just tell ya now, I'm not a kid person, I probably don't want any, and I'm fine with that. I'm not in the market for an insta-family. I'm also particularly disapproving of any kind of illicit substance use, even recreationally, in my date. Pre-emptorily, before you email or comment about how uptight I am, think about it from my perspective....do you really want to date some burnout stoner or someone who can't handle stress by any other means than to murder innocent, defenseless brain cells? They could have used those brain cells to come up with a better solution, or cure cancer for Pete's sake!! Gawd. I have plenty of friends who indulge themselves and I don't judge them. I am also not dating them. It's nobody's business what you do with your free time. I like to read dorky teenager books and sing songs to my cats (and then wonder why I'm single), and I'd hope my friends don't hold that against me. So calm down and take it in stride.
Also you're wasting your time by giving me shit for not wanting kids or being kid friendly. I've heard it all before and I remain unmoved. Kids are not for me, end of story.
So here's the dating app. Read it and weep.
Application For Prolonged Entertainment By The Big E
Name (Last, First, Middle)________________________________________________
Preferred Name or Nickname (if it is stupid, I will not call you that) ______________________________________________________________________
Phone number (Home, Cell, and Work—must be reachable at all times) _______________________________________________________________________
Date of Birth_______________________
Body Type/Height_________________________________________________________
Education Level__________________________________________________________
Employment status/type____________________________________________________
Do you enjoy having an adult libation upon occasion? Yes or No
How often?______________________________________________________________
Do you smoke? Yes or No
(if you smoke, please turn in your application immediately. Your services are not needed at this time unless we become desperate for a booty call)
Do you do any kind of recreational drugs, even on occasion? Yes or No
(if you chose yes, please turn in your application immediately. Your services are not needed at this time. Not even for a booty call.)
Date(s) of Prior Relationship (MM/DD/YY) to (MM/DD/YY)
Name of Ex-Girlfriend (Bitchface is not an acceptable answer)_____________________
Why did this relationship end? Be specific and detailed. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Children in the household? If so, please list names, ages, and maternal history:_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
(If you entered any information in the above field for children in the household, please stop writing and turn in your application immediately. Your services will not be needed at this time, although we will keep your application on file for a minimum of 6 (six) months after the date of application should we become desperate for a booty call)
Religious Beliefs (check one)
Baptist
Catholic
Methodist
Presbyterian
None of the Above
(if you entered none of the above, please explain the reason you think you are going to keep your soul out of everlasting torment) ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I am interested in (check all that apply)
Marriage
Short Term (6 mo-1 yr) Dating leading to Marriage
Long Term (1 yr-infinity) Dating leading to Marriage
Booty Call leading to Short and/or Long Term Dating leading to Marriage
I would like to have children (check one)
Yes
No
I don’t mind, it’s up to you, I am fine either way and I will not change my mind later on down the road and say I really wanted kids when I said I didn’t care to begin with.
How many days a week are you interested in intercourse?_______________________
Do you cuddle afterwards? Yes or No
How many days a week do you work out?____________________________________
What kind of foods do you dislike? Be specific.________________________________
What is your stance on paying for dates the majority of the time?___________________________________________________________________
What is your stance on public displays of affection?________________________________________________________________
What is your stance on minor weight gain (5-10 lbs) and major weight gain (15-30 lbs) of your significant other (i.e., Big E)?____________________________________________
Do you remember birthdays, anniversaries, the first date you went on, what she was wearing, and her family’s names and birthdays?
Yes or No
If you do not remember, will you make a concerted effort without being told to remember said things so you do not end up in the doghouse like your friends do? Yes or No
How stingy are you? (check one)
Extremely—I wouldn’t give my own mother a dollar to save her life from a maneating shark.
Somewhat—I will purchase gifts but only if they are under $10
Not at All—I want my woman to have the best of everything on my dime.
How amenable are you to performing favors for your significant other?
I will not help out with anything.
I will do some things, like bring you something to drink, but not others, such as holding your purse at the mall while you try on clothes or housework.
I will do anything and everything—hungry? I’ll cook. Dirty? I’ll clean. Purse? Hand it over and pick out something pretty.
Any other talents or special qualities you feel the Big E should consider in your application review? ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Thank you for taking the time to apply with the Big E. We will contact you as soon as we have made a decision regarding your date worthiness.
Inaugural Blog
Hey Ya'll! Welcome to the inaugural Frog Blog, the blog I have created to share my dating experiences, advice, and words of wisdom. Because we all know that to get to your Prince (not the Purple One, but the man of yo' dreams!), you gotta kiss a lotta frogs. And let me tell you, some of those frogs are the worst kissers in the world, or they have zero bedside manner, or they don't even get to the kiss because they're ridiculously weird. I know that if I've been through it, you've probably been through it too, so I thought it might be fun to share some of those crazy stories so you don't feel so bad for thinking "WTF is wrong with this dude?" or worse, "WTF is wrong with ME?"
So let me tell you a little bit about myself. I'm a SWF with an attitude. I have been called funny, and sometimes bitchy, and I put them together to create the image that is The Big E. Sarcasm is probably my most endearing and most polarizing quality. I'm a caring person, and a giving person, but I'm also a princess and I'm proud. I have realized over the years that you can be ready to settle down, but you should never settle. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and hiding my feelings on anything is usually an exercise in futility. This works for and against me at times, especially in relationships. I have pretty high standards, both for myself and others. I have been called "Napoleon" for being stringent in those standards (and also for being short), but I find that my diminuitive stature and unwavering hard-headedness have served me well. However, it hasn't stopped me from going out with a bunch of dudes that were all wrong for me, and it hasn't kept me from getting my heart broken or my feelings hurt. Nobody's perfect.
That said, I hope you enjoy my blog, and please feel free to comment and send me email with your stories, questions, or nuggets of wisdom.
So let me tell you a little bit about myself. I'm a SWF with an attitude. I have been called funny, and sometimes bitchy, and I put them together to create the image that is The Big E. Sarcasm is probably my most endearing and most polarizing quality. I'm a caring person, and a giving person, but I'm also a princess and I'm proud. I have realized over the years that you can be ready to settle down, but you should never settle. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and hiding my feelings on anything is usually an exercise in futility. This works for and against me at times, especially in relationships. I have pretty high standards, both for myself and others. I have been called "Napoleon" for being stringent in those standards (and also for being short), but I find that my diminuitive stature and unwavering hard-headedness have served me well. However, it hasn't stopped me from going out with a bunch of dudes that were all wrong for me, and it hasn't kept me from getting my heart broken or my feelings hurt. Nobody's perfect.
That said, I hope you enjoy my blog, and please feel free to comment and send me email with your stories, questions, or nuggets of wisdom.
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