Showing posts tagged match.com
PUBLIC RESPONSES TO PRIVATE MESSAGES: #5 - ARE THOSE FANGS?
Like most men in my life, you’re about to be disappointed. Not only are those my genetically perfect canines, I’m sad to report that I am also a mortal.
Look, it’s not your fault you see vampire traits in normal people. Vampire obsession is ruining our generation, the generation before us, the generation before them, and possibly ruining babies in utero. There’s absolutely no escaping vampire culture… they’re everywhere! Our TV shows, our movies, vampires are even ruining our indie rock (“Hi, we’re Vampire Weekend. We own over four thousand sweater vests and the best way to enjoy our music is to listen to Hot Chip and Peter Gabriel cover it”).
Personally, I’m not attracted to the “vampires” in Twilight, True Blood, or Vampire Diaries, and to be honest with you, seeing set stills of Johnny Depp in “Dark Shadows” makes me want to shut my vagina down for business for good. Until Tom Hardy accepts a role in “Dracula II: Take This Real British Accent, Keanu”, my fantasies will never involve being sucked and fucked by a vampire.
And I know it’s been said before, but these “vampires” aren’t even vampires. Edward in the Twilight series is NOT A VAMPIRE! Sure, he loves blood, but he can go into the sunlight and drives a Volvo! Vampires do not drive Volvos, and certainly not Volvo SUV’s! Those cars are reserved strictly for women, who dress as if they’ll be asked to ride a horse at a moment’s notice, and their children, who learn French before they start kindergarten.
Vampires are supposed to be frightening and monstrous, not weak and sparkly. Calling these characters “vampires” is like slapping a Ronald Reagan mask on a zebra and calling it a centaur.
Also, am I the only one who has a problem with 170 year olds making out with 17 year old girls? Even as a consenting adult, I am not interested in falling in love with someone whose last girlfriend died in the Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire. And just because vampires have centuries of sexual experience, that doesn’t mean they’re good at it. Oral sex for women wasn’t even invented until the 60‘s (according to my grandma).
Look, I appreciate you reaching out. But, if you’re looking for a vampire to love, or someone to talk about your vampire love with, I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong lady.
But if you want to talk about how hot zombies are, I might know a lady who could be interested ;)
PS. If you are into zombies, meet me in the cemetery so we can fuck dead people together. I’m there every night 2-4AM.
PUBLIC RESPONSES TO PRIVATE MESSAGES: #3 - A BIT CRAZY
Hi possible future date!
I’m not sure if people would consider me “ a bit crazy”. But how about this… I’ll tell you what I did last night and you can judge for yourself ;)
I went to Gelson’s and picked up a yummy dinner - two bottles of malbec, pre-made tuna salad and rice crackers. Went home, popped off my men’s Nike’s, unpacked the groceries (set them on my desk) and finished my work (looked at porn).
It was 10PM when I realized that I was very drunk and my hands smelled like a gross pier on a sweltering day. At this point in the evening, I had two options:
Option #1 - Go to bed
Option #2 - Dance
Blame Robyn’s “Call Your Girlfriend” and M83’s “Midnight City” forcing me onto my feet and shaking my ass like no one was watching (because no one was. I live alone). I watched myself dance in a full length mirror, wearing a robe over my clothes, for about 30 minutes. Not sure if you’ve ever danced in a heavy robe over a flannel shirt and corduroys, but it can get hot really quick, so I got totally naked, marched in my bedroom and put on a silk party dress, panty hose and peep toe heels. Feeling amazing in an outfit too bold for an indoor lonely dance party was the fuel I needed to dance the night away. I hit shuffle on my iTunes and danced like a three year old at a wedding. The two bottles of wine sloshing through my system made it easy to make every song a dance hit - Journey, Merle Haggard, episode one of Breaking Bad.
But the night, she was a justa getting started! I flung my shoes off and into the floor lamp, grabbed my last glass of wine and my laptop, and headed into my bedroom for a little single lady alone time ;)
I laid on my bed, took off my pantyhose, then opened my laptop. I went to my gmail, did a quick search for sad/angry emails ex’s have sent me, then read them aloud while crying and apologizing for being a terrible human being.
Next thing you know, it’s 8AM, my face is washed, the laptop is plugged in and all my clothes are put away. After I double checked that no pleading, sad emails were sent to anyone, I put my yoga clothes on and walked to the gym like nothing ever happened.
Anyway, I’d love to grab a drink if I sound like your dream woman.
PUBLIC RESPONSES TO PRIVATE MESSAGES: #2 - BIG ‘OL DONGS
If a guy likes my photos, but we have LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE IN COMMON, he will send me an email that is related to my height requirement, which is a minimum stature of 6’.
That being said, I get two types of these e-mails:
#1 I meet your height requirement
#2 Fuck your height requirement
This is an example of #1, with some bonus information… the 1950’s construction worker sexual harassment slang/greaser pick-up line “hung like a mule”.
It’s an interesting choice of words for a person I assume is living in the today’s, so I’d like to explore what he’s expressing by using it.
Let’s assume he’s not so crass as to just write “I’ll split you in half with my huge cock”, so, he thought he’d be funny and write “hung like a mule” instead. While I appreciate the small amount of restraint and sprinkling of respect, the message is the same…I HAVE A BIG DICK. Talking about your massive dong might be a funny thing to talk about with your friends or maybe a girl you’ve been on a couple of dates with who “gets how you like to joke around”, but I’m a mother fucking stranger, which means I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. Which means you also don’t know that I don’t like big dicks.
Believe it. I’ve been with enough guys to fill a yoga class, so I know what I’m talking about when I write in all caps “BIG DICKS ARE SCARY”.
Guys who brag about having gargantuan cocks usually don’t understand the term “too deep”, which a phrase women use when it feels like a dick is about to burst through her uterus, maybe her spine. And because of their inflated ego, well-hung guys don’t care about how having a monster’s penis makes it harder for women to have an orgasm. They don’t understand that because their cock doesn’t fit in anything smaller than the Alaska Pipeline, there’s no body friction, and they need to use their fingers so that the women they’re having sex with can have a fun time too. If a guy brags about having an enormous schlong, and you decide to have sex with him, you can bet on a three-part sexual experience - you and him fucking, him falling asleep as you tell him you didn’t come, you masturbating on the floor of his bathroom.
But, hey, maybe I’m wrong about the whole message he’s trying to send. Let’s assume he was being literal. He’s just your average, tall, nice guy who embarrassingly has an actual mule penis…due to some unfortunate science experiment or genetic mishap. I’m sure it’s a tough thing to bring up with ladies and while I appreciate his honestly, I’m sorry, I still can’t handle a mule’s dick, which looks like this (NSFW).
All around, until you’ve met someone face-to-face, I’d wait a few dates before bringing up your xxl boner.