Catfishing on a slow day: Chats with Tacosdelish

Ever wondered what the worst of humanity looks like and sounds like? Or where they are hanging out? Well folks, if you want an answer to that question, just go ahead and create a fake online dating profile.

Many months ago, a commenter altered me to this original piece, which demonstrates, in SCARY detail, just how far some individuals COUGHmenCOUGH will go to try to score with a somewhat attractive living, breathing person.

Now, if you have ever read this blog before, you are probably acquainted with my dear friend and alter ego, Tacosdelish. And if you’re new, welcome! I strongly advise you read this Introduction toTacos post partially for your amusement and partially for your safety, but in the meanwhile, let me summarize: Tacosdelish is my second, fake online dating profile where I take on the personality of a gaseous, gluttonous Chechen with an extra thumb. A few months back, OKC nudged Tacos incessantly to add a photo, so my friend and I googled, “mediocre looking girl” and slapped a blurry head shot from a random catalog up there (I am confident the model in this picture is either 20 years older by now or so significantly airbrushed she won’t recognize herself).

The new, cute picture resulted in the number of messages Tacos received SKYROCKETING through the roof. She also receives some unsavory chats, usually from “funcouple232” soliciting her immediate availability for a weird combination of a threesome and a poetry reading.

Usually, I immediately press ignore when I get chat requests on Tacos. But, thanks to the lack of new Sunday night programming on my favorite networks yesterday, (THANKS GRAMMYS! NO ONE WATCHES YOU, BTW!), I was performing a lackluster search on Tacos when a chat box from a fine young fella in the MD suburbs popped up, and I decided to engage with him a bit. And boy, am I glad I did:

terrifying chat part 1

First of all, let’s thank Bachelor #1 here for cutting to the chase. Even though he claimed to be a college student in his profile, he wasn’t scared off by Tacos’s information, which indicates that she’s 38 years old. I actually meant to type, “I think I’m friends with your mom,” which would have been scarier and funnier. However, this guy was not concerned with my wit. He was also not concerned with the fact that Tacos’s proclivity for guns matched that of a mass murderer. What would it take to scare this guy? I tried a different tactic:

terrifying chat part 2

That’s right. I was going to turn him off by misspelling things. Oh, and mentioning devil worship. And mentioning I was a DIY plastic surgeon. Oh, and mentioning I stole from my employer. But still, he did not relent. When he asked why I joined OKC, I replied:

terrifying chat part 3

Identity theft is real folks. Just ask these guys:

But yet, he replied:

terrifying chat part 4

CHECK MATE, SIR. I f you were trying to beat Tacos at her own game by being perverse, offensive, and just plain random, you have WON . I tip my hat to you!

Upon receiving this response from him, I promptly signed out of Tacos’s chat, fully disgusted by the whole exchange. (I also didn’t know which answer would be in the negative, yes or titties? They both sounded affirmative to me.)

I mean, I cannot lie, I did get a full seven minutes of LOL-ing out of this, and if you did too readers, we may make chats with Tacos a regular section on the blog. 

And you thought this winter would be cold and boring…

Worst Date Ever Contest Winners (and my latest man-stake)

It’s time to announce the winners of our Worst Date Ever Contest!!! And the winners are… 


Unwanted Physical

Six hour Date

Ponytailed Carnie

Congrats ladies! Your suffering has won you a tote.

Please email your mailing address to so we can send you some swag. We’re hoping that you’ll rock that shiz so regularly that Suri Holmes Cruise will beg us to create a line of children’s fashion. 

 And thanks again to all of our wonderful readers who shared their stories with us. And believe me when I say that your stories got us through some cold winter nights.

Speaking of cold winter nights, Momma has been feeling a lot of them recently, after breaking it off with yet another OKC bachelor. And contrary to what you may believe about me, pity parties/mini break ups involve more than whiskey. There may or may not have been some rocking out to this rather immature Avril Lavigne throwback:

Is there anyone out there besides me who DOESN’T hate this song? If so, holler at me, because we may be a match.

So, what happened? It’s really quite absurd, for so many reasons. Right around Halloween, I started messaging with a really cute 25 year old. I’ve always had a thing for younger guys. (No Mrs. Robinson jokes, please. I like to think of myself as more of a “Stacy’s Mom.”)

stacys mom

Besides, W was tall and handsome and had some solid ties to Philadelphia, my home city. While a quick read of W’s answers to OKC questions revealed that he, at most, would turn out to be a mildly intelligent jump off, I figured there was no harm in going on a date with him. At best, it’d be a Tuesday night adventure. And, if it sucked, I’d just bounce after one drink.

But here’s the thing. When we met up, it was so fun. This guy literally met every single one of the criteria that I love in a man, despite the $100 in weekly therapy and 1000 warnings I’ve received from my nearest and dearest. 

On our date, W revealed the following gems:

  • He used to manage a Dominos pizza, but quit when “management was all up in his business.”
  • He was a liquor distributor who went to work “sometimes.”
  • He hated books because they told him “what to think” and “what to do.”

But before you shake your head and tell me just how many red flags you have already found JUST BY READING THIS BLOG POST, bear with me. W made me laugh. And, in a city full of guys who take themselves wayy too seriously, he was just such a refreshing change from what I encounter on a daily basis. And I love pizza. And liquor. So we have that in common. And did I mention I am a MESS for tall slackers wearing hoodies?

So after talking for 4 hours and closing down to the bar, we went back to my place. And if I provided you with the full details I’d have to charge you 99 cents per minute. And W revealed one more detail to me:

  • He was a recovering heroin addict.

I’m sorry, what? I must have heard wrong.  Heron addict? Were you addicted to taking pictures of these water-dwelling birds?


No,  I heard properly. Heroin. The shiz that the Barksdale gang is selling on the Wire.

WMDs! Pandemic!

Now, listen. I know I sound like Yuppie McPriveledged, and while in some ways I am, in many ways I am not. I really do think everyone has a past and makes mistakes and other people’s drug use is not something I get that bent out of shape about. The heroin part was not upsetting me nearly as much as the addict part. As you may have gleaned from my previous posts, I tend to fall for addicts. In fact, I have a pretty deep history with one. And I am not gonna get all Jerry Spring/Montell Williams Special on you, but let me just say that, having a relationship with an addict is the most fun/most stressful/most ultimately consuming thing that can happen to a person. So at that moment, even though I was 100% charmed by W, I knew that I could never, ever really date him.

But yet, when he texted me the next day and said he wanted to see me again, I said yes. And we had a great time. And so I said yes again. And again. And before I knew it, I was hooked. Some might say, ADDICTED. Bah Dum Ching–even at my lowest points, friends, I never pass up an opportunity for a cheap joke. 

I knew one day it would have to end, but I convinced myself that day would be sometime next week, or after the next time we hung out. I figured, why ruin a fun thing? But the more we hung out, the more signs I started to see that the time was near. One thing that did bother me about him was that he was super flaky. I mean, he could not make plans for anything more than three hours in advance.

Exhibit A:

photo 2

Exhibit B:

photo 2

And this bothered me. Why?

1) Because I’m a busy woman! I’m not just sitting around my parents’ house, waiting for some guy to pick me up and take me to the commuter rail parking lot for some heavy petting # highschool #beentheredonethat

2) Because I thought it meant that he was just not that into me. I know that his inability to make plans could have also been explained by the fact that he was a 25  year old, barely-employed drug addict. However, I took this inability personally and thought that his flakiness was just a way of dicking me around.  And, the more attached to him I became, the more the possibility that he was just not that into me bummed me out.

So the next time he reached out to me, I decided to end it.* And, while it sucked to momentarily disappoint him, and to voluntary turn down someone whose ahem, company, I was really enjoying, I am glad I ended it.

* What actually happened is I consulted no less than four colleagues, three friends over Facetime, my therapist, my sister, and two relationship blogs, and they all implored to me stop seeing him, and finally I listened.

Anyway, after a week, I recovered from the moping and was prepared to go on with my life. And there I was, a few mornings ago, checking Tacosdelish’s messages. (This is not something I do often, because, she seriously receives 20 messages per day, 15 of which are sexual innuendos mentioning food, butts, or farts.) But when I looked in her inbox, what did I see but a message from W!!!!! 

w's message to tacos

Upon reading this, I did what anyone would do in my situation. I freaked out, ceased work, started to hyperventilate, and g-chatted S an SOS message and claimed that W was “in love with Tacosdelish”. To which she calmly responded:


:sam on tacos

S was right. This message was benign, and even if it wasn’t, who cares? It actually makes for some unbelievable blog material and a funny  ending to a somewhat depressing tale. So thank you W, for that! I hope you and Tacosdelish are very happy together. And I hope you bring a Chechen dictionary to your first date.

Move over Carlos Danger. Here comes Tacosdelish.

Hi readers! In light of all the drama surrounding certain people’s online alter-egos, I thought we’d spend today talking about mine.

She’ll haunt your fantasies and she’ll steal your dreams.

She’ll steal from the rich and give to the poor.

You’ll never see her coming, yet she will always be in your sight.

It’s everybody’s favorite online dating alter ego…


Now that I’ve introduced “Tacos”  (as we affectionately call her) with the pomp and circumstance she deserves, I guarantee she’ll replace this little tyke as an icon of national togetherness and joy:


Lolz, Just kidding! Sorry North West (and PS, we know its not even you). I meant this guy:

royal baby

Let me back up a little. Why have an online dating alter ego? I am sure ANYONE who has ever online dated can answer this question. It’s so you can stalk: your dates, potential dates, guys who message you, guys who DON’T message you, coworkers, people you know who are in relationships, yet looking; without notice and without compromising the integrity of your regular profile. Sure, you could pay extra on OKC for a feature that lets you browse anonymously, but why do that when you could just create another free profile?

Tacosdelish was actually born several years ago, and her name was a joint collaboration between me and my ex-boyfriend. We created the profile so we could stalk our friends who were on OKC.  We didn’t intend to use the profile to actually get dates, so we decided to make Tacos as absurd and unattractive as possible, just to entertain ourselves. According to OKC, she looks like this:

okc heart

I tried posting a picture of Gru from Despicable Me up there, but we were immediately disciplined by Chris Coyne. So the heart will have to do.

Anyway, since you can’t see Tacos, you’ll have to take her word for what she looks like. According to her profile:

Tacos looks

But, looks aren’t everything, as many good fellows of OKC like to remind us. Perhaps Tacos Delish is rich and successful:

tacos job

Not only does Tacos lack a job and income, but she also barely speaks English. Which begs one to wonder, how did she fill out a profile? Thank god she speaks Chechen and Basque though!! Such common languages. 

However, several men in DC have expressed interest in having a chat  with Tacos over drinks or dinner, which suggests one or more of the following:

1) They didn’t carefully read the profile.

2) They actually speak Basque or Chechen, and mysteriously ended up in DC.

3) Sharing a common spoken language is not a prerequisite for a date.

Now, in spite, of her poor command of the Queen’s vernacular, Tacos has managed to pull together quite an appealing profile. Take a look:

tacos profile

I have to say, I am most proud of how Tacos spends her typical Friday night. And it’s only partially true! (I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out which parts.)  Interestingly, many guys are quite turned on by the farting. Behold a sample message I received:

tacos fart message

Gotta give this guy points for creativity. If Tacos was real, she would have gone out with him and had a farting contest.

Other men take the name quite literally:

tacos sex message

Boy, puh-lease! Tacos is clutching her pearls right now. Why?

tacos question answers part 1

Because baby girl is a shallow virgin.

On the other hand, she is a virgin with a lot of sexual fantasies:

tacos profile 3


 And she’s incredibly rude.

But what I find most offensive about Tacos is that she’s a Republican:

tacos profile part 2

sarah palin

To sum up this post:

I have an online dating alter ego.

I think she’s really hilarious.

She makes absolutely no sense.

She gets a ton of messages. Some from really cute guys. TRUTH!

It’s a crazy world out there on the internet, folks. And, I promise, you haven’t seen the last of Tacos. Not any more than you’ve seen the last of Carlos Danger.