search terms – saggy breasts

Posted on June 14, 2013 by D

Like S, my prospects are pretty dim at the moment. Even with the addition of Match. Which is a total mystery to me, because who wouldn’t want to be with a girl who wakes up in the morning screaming about flying turtles taking up residence in her humble little studio apartment? That girl sounds like a total catch. Not a traumatized lunatic at all. But I digress. Since I’ve got time on my hands, and we’re a little narcissistic over in these parts, I’ve been hanging out on our stats page a lot lately. One thing I’ve noticed is that this Pic of the Week post is viewed pretty regularly, well after it was posted. Not quite daily, but definitely more than once a week. I do happen to think it’s one of my funnier posts, but sadly, that’s not the reason it gets as much traffic as it does. The real reason can be found in the Search Engine Terms section of our stats page:

S alluded to the entertainment value that is found there, amongst the search terms. There are some really unique gems in that history. You know what else can be found in that all time summary? Four of the top ten search terms sending people on over here, and a total of 57 different search terms, revolve around saggy breasts. I compiled all such searches into this handy little chart:

(I don’t really know what to say about the fact that I spent an inordinate (read: alarming/disturbing/sad) amount of time ~~tediously~~ perfectly lining up each entry when pasting them all together so the border lines on each side matched up exactly. Other than thanks for the OCD MOM.)

Let me tell you, I didn’t really know what to expect when we started this blog. I don’t think I ever really considered google search terms. But I certainly did not expect the perkiness (or lack thereof) of women’s chests to play a role in bringing in readers. It is equal parts hilarious and terrifying how many searches focus on saggy breasts. It’s also a little astonishing how many different iterations there are of “saggy breasts pictures.” Most have just been used once, but there are a handful that are repeat offenders. Nineteen times people (or just one person over and over again) have searched “saggy breasts pics” and clicked on over to us. I just sat silently shaking my head for 2 minutes after typing that sentence.

A few of my favorites:

“Delicious breast molesting.” As if there’s any other kind of breast molesting.

There are a lot of very specific dating sites out there (seriously – take a moment and peruse that list). Maybe this is an untapped market? Should I shelve this whole lawyering thing and start a new dating website? God knows my ambition to become a public defender isn’t going to make me rich. Are saggy breasts the key to financial success in my life?

Not really the description that I was hoping people would use for our blog.

Because a normal amount of sagging just won’t do. No one wants to see that. Extreme sagging is where it’s at. You heard it here first, folks!

Both of these searches are oddly singular. They’re just looking for 1 saggy breast? Not a matched pair? Is this a niche fetish? I should probably create a group on the new dating site that caters to these folks.

Are saggy breasts my legacy?

Why D quit POF

Posted on June 3, 2013 by D

My POF days are over. I deleted my profile and account. I had originally joined it because I figured it couldn’t hurt to have a profile up on another dating site. Twice the exposure, twice the possibilities right? WRONG. POF yielded me exactly 0 dates. And I think this message that I recently received from the creator of POF sums up why:

I have a few comments regarding this message.

1. Either “2% of men started to use POF as more of a hookup site” is a gross understatement, or I only received messages from that 2% during my tenure on the site. I was propositioned a LOT.

2. Intimate Encounters.

If you wanted the website to be about Relationships (note the capital R he uses), then why did Intimate Encounters exist in the first place?

3. “Intimate Encounters on POF can be summed up as a bunch of horny men talking to a bunch of horny men pretending to be women.” Ahhhh. Well, I’m no longer curious as to why I was so unsuccessful on this site…

I had pretty much already decided to quit POF before I received this message, and the above was just the last nail in POF’s coffin. I previously chronicled some of the other things that contributed to me saying goodbye to the site, like the decline of good grammar and the guy who stole his cousin’s nylons.

Now, before you go and say, “But D, if you didn’t like the quality of the messages you were receiving, why didn’t you initiate conversations with guys whose profiles you liked?”, please know that I did. When I found a profile that interested me, I shot the guy a message. Some didn’t respond, and most fizzled out after a few messages back and forth. Like this guy, who pretty much insulted where I live 4 messages into our conversation:

First of all, I hate Home Depot with a passion. When I was a kid running errands with my father, I quickly learned that “we just need to stop at Home Depot for 1 thing” really meant “kiss the next 2 hours of your life goodbye and then wait here with our 4 carts while I pull the truck around so we can load all this senseless crap.” When you say Home Depot, all I hear is “TORTURE.” So even though he admittedly had no way of knowing it, things had just taken a turn for the worse with the mere mention of Home Depot. Second of all, you’ve only been to the Home Depot in Somerville, but you’re judging it anyway? The Home Depot is sandwiched between I-93 and some MBTA tracks. Of course you didn’t see anything awesome. Somerville has a lot of cool and fun things to offer, like our movie theater that serves beer and wine. But I’m not going to defend it to some asshat who admits he hasn’t spent much time in the city I chose to live in and then insults it anyway.

The message that finally sent me over the edge was received a few hours before I got Markus’ terrifying message relaying the truth about Intimate Encounters. The sender? One of those 2% Markus mentioned. A JT and/or Ashton wannabe. (I would like to note that I have not actually seen either of these movies, despite my girl crush on Mila and my deep affection for Natalie’s emotional turn in Where the Heart Is. I have a very discerning taste when it comes to chick flicks, what can I say? But I’m pretty sure we all know how they ended – opposite from the reality of most who try to pull this kind of thing off…) Anyway, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable sent this my way:

This was not the reason I started online dating. I’m not looking to settle down yesterday or jump into a serious relationship with every guy I exchange a message with, but I’m not looking to sleep around either.

And finally, though the ads that are featured at the top of the site weren’t a reason I deleted my profile, they certainly didn’t help POF’s cause:

So, I quit POF. And bit the bullet by joining a paid site in its place: Match. I’m keeping my OKC account because it’s free and not nearly as creepy as POF was. In theory, the people who shell out money to be on a site are probably more in line with what I’m hoping to get out of online dating. Which, spoiler alert, does not include contracting a VD after a one night stand or wondering why all my tights keep disappearing.

Message Monday – Arrested Development

Posted on May 27, 2013 by D

The dry spell continues for me, due in large part to the continued influx of creepy sexual messages (stay tuned for details on why I quit POF). But a couple weeks ago I got a message that indicated the guy had actually read my OKC profile, and all the way through at that. That’s a promising sign. The very last section of every OKC profile is titled “You should message me if.” In addition to a reference to Carhartt, mine says that you should message me if you’re excited that Arrested Development is coming back. Today is Memorial Day and I don’t know what you all are doing to celebrate on this holiday, but I’m currently on a day-long date with my wii watching the Bluth family once again cluck like deranged chickens.

I’m in heaven, I could not be happier about how my Monday is playing out.

Anyway, back to the message. This guy had clearly read to the end, because the message he sent expressed shock and excitement that the dreams of AD fans everywhere were finally coming true:

Annnnnnnd, END SCENE. That was the last I heard from this fellow.

Once he was done getting all the deets on the upcoming 4th season, I was uesless. He wasn’t actually interested in talking to me, because apparently he confused a dating website for a personalized Siri-like IMDB. Glad I was able to help him out!

OKC Questions: D’s Makers and Breakers

Posted on May 9, 2013 by D

In the final installment of this series, I reveal three OKC questions that I judge potential dates on. While L and S had questions influenced by their parents, I’m the odd woman out here. Both of my parents are lawyers (and tried in vain to talk me out of following in their footsteps – at the age of 24 I was still ignoring my parents’ sound advice to my own detriment), so I mostly grew up with an appreciation/love of arguing. Usually in a very tedious and annoying manner. I’m super fun at parties! Though they did take us on a lot of cool vacations, so in a way they inspired me to care so much about this first question:

1) The Traveling Question:

In addition to the fact that I get restless when I’m in 1 place for a more than a month, I genuinely love traveling. Doesn’t matter if it’s a 2 hour drive away, a 10 hour flight away, a place I’ve been to a thousand times, or somewhere I’ve never been before. I’ve been to 39 states and 11 countries (spanning 3 continents – the goal is one day to visit all 7). I visit Philadelphia so regularly that when I was there two weeks ago, one guy I’ve met a few times was shocked to find out I don’t actually live there. My passport is impatiently waiting for its next stamp (and it looks like it might get it next spring!!). I am a traveler. And while I don’t mind traveling alone, I would like for it to be a shared passion in my relationships.

2) The Kidney Question:

Setting aside the broader issue of organ donation in general (which I think is very important), this question does not ask “would you donate a kidney to someone you went on 3 dates with?” or “your significant other is dying and even though it’s totally pointless, won’t save their life, and won’t even buy them an extra minute on earth, would you give them one of your kidneys?”. It asks if you would donate a kidney to your significant other if it would SAVE THEIR LIFE. This is mandatory for me because if you would choose to let your significant other die over parting with an expendable organ, then fuck you. I hope you enjoy that extra kidney when you’re 73 and alone because it’ll be all you’ve got you heartless asshole.

3) The Promises Question:

S laughs at how militant I get when talking about this question, but let me explain. Obviously I don’t want to be with someone who only keeps promises when it’s convenient. Or even someone who “usually” keeps them, which implies that on occasion they arbitrarily decide to just forget their word when something better comes along. No thanks. At the same time, it’s impossible to keep all of your promises, because none of us controls the world. Lots of things that are out of our hands might occur, preventing us from keeping a promise: asteroids, food poisoning, plane crashes, a polio outbreak, a ponzi scheme that bankrupts you. Show me someone who claims to always keep their promises, and I’ll show you a liar. I don’t date liars.

So there you have it folks – a little look inside what’s important to L, S and D. Hope you enjoyed this three-part series!

Pic of the Week: Inspirational Messages

Posted on May 1, 2013 by D

First, a little introduction to OKC’s sad cousin, POF. As far as I can tell from my experience on the site, POF is good for three things: harboring fetishists, providing generic and useless advice about healthy relationships, and eschewing basic principles of sentence construction. You post a few pictures, provide some demographic info, answer a few yes or no questions (do you do drugs? do you have children? etc.), and fill in as much or as little personal info as you’d like in an “about me” section. If I had to make a rough estimate of how many of those “about me” sections are just one giant stream-of-consciousness run-on sentence, I would say 93%. At the risk of sounding like my (former English teacher) mother (love you Mom!), what is happening to this world? Real life examples of people who have contacted me:

Maybe I’m being picky, but I’d like to date someone who understands, at the very least, where to place commas and periods. Bonus points for the use of the oxford comma. Want to really make me weak in the knees? Use apostrophes properly (or just at all, we can start there). The trifecta? Don’t senselessly abbreviate words, especially “and” down to just “n”. Three letter words do not need to be shortened. If POF is any indication, this is a sharply-declining population.*

POF is proving to be pretty useless, to be honest. But it did provide today’s Pic of the Week, so there’s at least a little value there… This 31 year old gentleman on POF had six pictures on his profile. NONE of which were of him. ALL of which featured delightfully healthy thoughts/quotes about relationships. Behold:

Let’s look at these individually, shall we? First up:

These “girls never go for good guys” rants are pretty standard actually. Guys just usually put them in their own words, instead of google imaging “the plight of the self-proclaimed nice guy” and posting the results as profile pictures. So kudos to him for creativity?

It’s true, when I picture my ideal relationship I’m always peacefully napping on the back of a shiny-skinned, muscle-clad man whose sole purpose in life is to stare at the ground all day whilst carrying me and providing for me. Who wants to be in a relationship where you both consider each other as an equal? It’s way better to be perceived as a weak female who is dependent on the men in her life.

If I’m too busy to call you or check on you, chances are pretty good I don’t love you. So you probably shouldn’t love me, stop being so understanding. You say “I’ll understand.” What you really mean is “I’m a spineless doormat.” (Tardiness isn’t a very good indication of my affections though, I’m late to things on a daily basis. So I will actually need someone to be understanding on that topic).

In a certain way, I can actually relate to this one. I’m a total catch, yes, but I’m also a complete lunatic (which is part of my charm). So every potential relationship for me involves a delicate balancing act between a) exposing some of the crazy in an endearing, adorable way, and b) hiding the majority of the crazy until he’s already fallen for me. Obviously this balancing act isn’t perfected yet, as I’m still single. It’s hard to be me.

He doesn’t seem like the kind who just goes with the flow and stays happy. He seems PRETTY paranoid, unhappy, and affected. Just the type of traits that I’m looking for in a guy.

This guy has either never dated at all, or only dated crazy bitches. My baggage is the size of a little wristlet compared to what this guy is carrying around.

*I had planned to provide just a brief description of POF as a lead-in to this post. I didn’t even realize what a tangent/rant I had gone off on until I previewed the finished draft. Apparently, I have strong feelings about good grammar. Sorry for taking you along on that ride. Except I’m not sorry, because the only thing that makes the dating population less soul-crushing is this blog.

Message Tuesday: Nylons

Posted on April 23, 2013 by D

This post could alternately be titled:

The One That Made D Cry at Her Desk, or

Maybe Dying Alone Isn’t So Bad, or

WHY? JUST, WHY?!

We just started chatting yesterday afternoon (about totally normal topics, I might add). He asked for my number this morning. More normal conversation, until he asked me about my dress code as a lawyer, a seemingly innocuous question. That quickly devolved into this. We have “known” each other for less than 24 hours.

I can’t even.

Pre-Date Rituals: Part II

Posted on April 18, 2013 by D

Note: I put the finishing touches on this post on Sunday, because I knew I would be spending all of Marathon Monday day drinking along the marathon route (just past mile 24), and most of Tuesday recovering. After the terrible events that happened here on Monday, I thought about taking out my reference to how a lot of Bostonians celebrate what is typically the best day of the year in Boston. But I ultimately decided to leave it as written. Because it should have been like any other Marathon Monday – tens of thousands of runners celebrating an impressive personal accomplishment, while the rest of us lazy bums reveled in the successes of total strangers and our good fortune in having a paid day off while the rest of the nation is at work/school. It’s a delightful local holiday, officially called Patriots’ Day. An institution in Boston. A day full of cheering on the runners and parties and barbeques and happiness and unity. It should not have turned into something dark, confusing, and incredibly sad. Still, in the midst of all that tragedy, there was so much good. So many helping hands. So it’s a very small stand that I’m taking, but I’m leaving it in for the way it was supposed to be.

Last week S gave us all a glimpse of her pre-date rituals (inspired by Brunch for Every Meal). Over the long weekend here in MA, I took a break from my busy schedule of Veronica Mars viewing (specifically, this scene on repeat – Logan is so tortured and hot, it gets me every time) and Marathon Mondaying (my 10th Marathon Monday – god it’s the best day!!), to shed some light on how I get ready for a date. Spoiler alert: my version involves less preparation, and yet, more tardiness.

7:50 am: Wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual with the intention of using that time to pick out a cute outfit and consider wearing makeup. Immediately decide against wearing makeup because I’d have to do it myself and that has only ever ended with me looking like a drag queen. (If you see me in real life with makeup on there is a 100% chance that 1] I’m in the company of S (and mutual friend, other S) and they sat me down and prettied me up; or 2] I’m a bridesmaid in a wedding and a professional make-up artist was involved). Actually use those extra 20 minutes to leisurely eat a bowl of Special K with red berries and make disapproving faces at Matt Lauer and/or Willie Geist (Matt Lauer for being Matt Lauer and Willie Geist for snubbing me that one time I was a “guest” on the Today Show**). This is different from my normal routine in that I usually wake up with exactly enough time to shower and get dressed, so I don’t have time to eat anything in my apartment or turn the tv on. Instead, I eat an apple or banana in the car while making disapproving faces at everyone else on the road and listening to Mattie in the Morning because everyone on that show is mean to each other and that’s what mornings are for.

8:10 am: Shower and hastily blow-dry my hair in an attempt to make it look as good as it does when my sister or friend J does it. I’m generally 78% successful at achieving this.

8:30 am: Quickly pick out a dress or top/skirt that is both work appropriate and can be transitioned into dinner/drinks with a cute scarf/cardigan/jewelry/shoes, and leave for work.

6:15 pm: Consider leaving work to stop at home and grab something to eat. Disregard that thought because if I go home I will lay down on my couch to “rest up and refresh my energy before the date” and end up taking a 4 hour nap.

6:20 pm: Eat a handful of animal crackers from the bear jar sitting on the bookshelf in my office and make a packet of instant oatmeal from the stockpile that I amassed when everything at the local grocery story was 70% off because the store was going out of business and EVERYTHING MUST GO! (that was back in like, October – I bought an astounding amount of oatmeal).

6:22 pm: Put away whatever (boring) lawyer task I was doing, and browse some of my favorite sites on the internet whilst eating my “dinner” because I have plenty of time before I need to leave.

7:05 pm: Use my typically flawed logic when it comes to timing to calculate that since the bar is (more often than not) in Davis Square which is past my apartment, and it takes me 12-15 minutes to get home and 5 minutes to get from my apartment to basically anywhere, I should start packing up.

7:28 pm: Face the reality for the 4,293,194th time that even in my car, almost nothing is actually 5 minutes from my apartment and I’m probably going to be late.

7:35 pm: Park 2 ½ blocks from the bar/restaurant because I’m cheap and would rather park on a resident only street for free than pay the $0.50 for a metered spot (stupid 8 p.m. meters). Also, the last time I parked in a metered spot it was simultaneously a poorly marked handicapped spot and I got a $100 ticket. SOOO, yeah.

7:40 pm: Waltz in, start a slow-clap for myself for only being 10 minutes late and not the typical 15-20, act like my propensity for arriving late to everything is an endearing quality and not the character flaw that it really is, and hope that this blasé attitude towards tardiness rubs off on my date.

**I use the term “guest” loosely. My mom and I were really just handlers, because the real guests were two of my parents’ dogs (they are legitimate rock stars) and the other families that Stupid Willie Geist actually spoke to instead of stood in front of. Fuck him.

P.S. I know that being late is rude, I do. And it may not seem like it, but I genuinely try to be on time for things because I’m aware of my delinquent ways. I just rarely succeed. Like I said – character flaw.

Message Monday, or the one about why D has no fun date stories lately

Posted on April 8, 2013 by D

So, dear readers, you may have noticed that I haven’t been posting any date stories lately. And this is a dating blog after all, so what’s the deal? Well. I wish I could say it’s that all my dates recently have been with cool guys and they went really well (and thus weren’t blog worthy). But I can’t say that. The real reason is that I have not had a conversation with anyone worth meeting in person in awhile. Discouraging, yes. Blog worthy, most definitely. So today, we have a Message Monday on steroids, if you will.

These have been some of the recent interactions I’ve had:

1) This fine fellow had messaged me and then talked about the weather (literally). And, at one point, in response to a sarcastic question by me to spice things up, he honestly stated that he thinks the T is great. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t harbor a healthy amount of hatred for Boston’s public transportation. So I was already losing my patience with this fool. And then, this happened:

Excuse me? Topics we have covered so far: the weather, the T, the fact that you like pizza, and a trip you took to Puerto Rico. I don’t even know your name. You know nothing about me thus far, other than the fact that I would like to go to Puerto Rico because I have a friend that lives there. And the first thing you want to know about me is “Are you freaky at all?” Why are questions like this becoming socially acceptable?

2) Casual fun:

I … I don’t even know how to respond to that. First, what other kind of fun is there? Second, and maybe I’m wrong, but I feel like what he’s really asking is “are you open to casual sex?” Again, WTF with this line of questioning? Third, emoticons. Sigh. The only thing I’m open to is ignoring you.

3) When a guy sends me a message on OKC, I obviously check out his profile, but I also check out his answers to all the user-generated questions. A quick crash-course in OKC questions. You can answer as many or as few as you want. But you can only see a guy’s answer if you also answered that question. And when you answer, you also indicate which answers you will “accept”, and which answers are “dealbreakers”. Whenever an answer is not one the other person would accept, it shows up in red. Two great examples (from the same guy):

This fine gentleman is unemployed. Times are tough, so you’ll notice that I’m ok with that answer. You will also notice that my answer of “I have a fulltime job” is unacceptable to him. Besides the inherent sexism or the fact that I will never be a housewife or stay-at-home mom (nothing wrong with that, just sooo not me), what exactly is your life plan sir? Because I’m pretty sure if you don’t work, and your partner doesn’t work, that pretty much leaves old refrigerator box down by the river as your only option. Oh wait, this clears things up for me a bit:

First – his answer of yes. Like I said, times are tough, so I can imagine scenarios where this wouldn’t necessarily scare me off, but as a general rule living with your parents sets off alarm bells for me. Are you unable to hold down a job, and thus unable to pay monthly bills? Do you have any life ambition? Does your mother still do your laundry? Is it your dream for them to build an apartment over the garage, so you never have to leave home? Etc. Second, my answer, the one that indicates that I’m a fully functioning, self-sufficient adult (haha, I can’t even type that without cracking up) with a job and an apartment, seems to be the opposite of what this guy wants. He wants me to still be living with my parents at the age of 28? I don’t understand. Aside from a whole host of more serious questions about this answer, if you live with your parents, and I live with my parents, where do we go to make out? The car in the driveway? Just – NO.

4) This delightfully hypocritical fellow messaged me. This one isn’t actually funny, it’s just super offensive.

There’s no way I will date someone who thinks anything other than “it’s all fine by me” is an appropriate answer. There’s not really much else to say about this.

5) Gettin’ Friskay

EWWWW. I feel dirty just reading that. Also, why are you adding extra letters to some words, and eliminating necessary letters from others?

6) This guy sent me a funny message related to my love of the Die Hard franchise (really all things Bruce Willis). But his profile was completely blank, with the exception of 1 picture. Where I normally ignore blank profiles, I decided to find out what the deal was.

Why are boys so stupid? This is either 1) a really bad lie, or 2) you’re the kind of person who routinely starts things, but lacks the competence and/or focus to complete them. I’m leaning towards a combination of both, because you’ll notice that this conversation happened back at the end of February. As of 10:03 p.m. on April 7th, his profile is still blank.

7) Motorboat all day!!

His profile mentioned that he’s in the Coast Guard stationed here in Boston, and his ship routinely patrols down in the Caribbean. I thought it was a totally normal question. What a delightful response. For a number of reasons, this one included, I should know by now to stay away from the Coast Guard. It’s my own fault.

Now – I said that I hadn’t had a conversation with anyone worth meeting in person in awhile. That’s not entirely true. There was one promising guy. C sent me a really funny message and seemed cool. But his profile said he was from Ft. Lauderdale. So I responded, and also inquired as to why he was messaging me up in Boston when he was down in Florida. He answered that he was in the process of moving up here. Ok, made sense to me. No point in meeting people in Florida if you’re going to leave, and why not get a jump on meeting people up in your new city? So the conversation continued, and C asked for my number. I gave it to him, and for a few days we texted (a healthy amount – it’s possible!). Then, this happened (please note the date stamp):

MAY? It’s early March! What the hell are we supposed to do until then? I mean, he seemed nice and all, but I can count on one hand the number of guys who could ask me out 2 months in advance that I would actually wait for. Sorry to break it to you C, but unless you’re really an undercover Ryan Gosling or Jack Reacher (the Jack Reacher in my head, not the Tom Cruise variety), you’re not on that list*. And I’m not looking for a pen pal either. So while I wouldn’t mind you looking me up when you do finally arrive in this fine metropolis, I don’t have time to chat it up with a total stranger 1,500 miles away for the next 60+ days. I’m super busy re-watching all 3 seasons of Veronica Mars in preparation for the new movie.

*There are technically two other individuals on this list, but a girl’s gotta have a few secrets, right?

Pic of the Week: Ummmmmm?

Posted on March 27, 2013 by D

This pic of the week is so confusing for me. I have so many questions.

1) What’s even happening here? Hernia, food poisoning, stab wound, what?

2) I shudder to ask this question, but what is he holding in his hands? And what is he doing with it? That’s as far as I’ll go with this line of inquiry…

3) Although this was taken in a bathroom, it’s not a self shot. Which begs the questions: a) Who took this picture? and b) Why? There’s clearly something wrong, why is this creepy photographer documenting his pain instead of coming to his aid?

4) That left thigh muscle terrifies me. Not technically a question, but still.

5) Why is he wearing tights? Is he a simpleton’s Robin Hood: Men in Tights? Couldn’t get his hands on a period vest or white button down, so black tights and a plain white T had to suffice? FYI: Cary Elwes and his band of merry men do it better buddy. Both physically, and because they had Mel Brooks.

Pic of the Week: Saggy Breasts

Posted on March 20, 2013 by D

Sorry for being MIA for over a week. I’m having a time lately. I’ve been in a weird mood, which I thought I had snapped out of after accidentally dining in the ‘burbs with some sassy septuagenarians. Judging by the fact that I made cookie dough last night, managed to make only 7 cookies before I forgot all about them (and I never forget about cookies), left the gas oven on for 5 hours, got up in the middle of the night to get a drink only to hear strange noises coming from my refrigerator that sounded to me like a frog, and had a panic attack at 2:30 a.m. in my kitchen, I’d bet good money that I’m still in that mood. Which is concerning, because old men shamelessly flirting with me is my kryptonite. That’s not even a joke – I Eat. That. Shit. Up. One of them even kissed my hand. I fanned myself with my other hand like a deranged southern belle and nearly passed out from joy. Things like that have never before failed to lift my spirits into the heavens. So I don’t know what’s going on. But I don’t want to disappoint you dear readers. So, pic of the week…

This week, the picture is actually the least offensive part. It’s the caption that kills me. And no, I did not caption that myself in an attempt at humor. That was ALL him.

Let me get this straight. You are so against saggy breasts, that you PUNCH WOMEN IN THE CHEST?!? What you call a joke (god I hope), I (and the rest of the world) call indecent assault and battery. It’ll land you in prison for up to 5 years. Getting punched in the chest is the most decent thing that’ll happen to you in there.
There is a minute, but disturbing, chance that I have met this asshat. This photograph was taken at the Coast Guard base in Boston, a place I have visited numerous times. My chest hurts just thinking about it.
Why do guys insist on posting pictures of themselves working out at the gym? Seeing you in grubby workout gear does not make me swoon. And I don’t care how much weight you can lift or how far you can run. That is not information that will ever come in handy for me. Post a picture of yourself cooking a delicious meal, wearing Carhartt, and/or building floor-to-ceiling bookshelves of the Beauty and the Beast variety, sliding ladders and all. That is the kind of thing I really care about. That is the kind of thing that makes me weak in the knees.
For the love of god, why is this on your dating profile? That’s not rhetorical, I legitimately don’t understand.
Stop molesting women and start doing your job – the waterways in this city aren’t safe.

Stupid Cupid

three single girls. three cities. adventures in online dating.

Author Archives: D

search terms – saggy breasts

Why D quit POF

Message Monday – Arrested Development

OKC Questions: D’s Makers and Breakers

Pic of the Week: Inspirational Messages

Message Tuesday: Nylons

Pre-Date Rituals: Part II

Message Monday, or the one about why D has no fun date stories lately

Pic of the Week: Ummmmmm?

Pic of the Week: Saggy Breasts

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