A little while ago I posted about going through a break-up and all of the
shitfuckery fun that that entailed. I got a lot of lovely
words from readers (read: lots of useful advice on how to drink my problems
away) and it helped a lot (my doctor might disagree). Now that summer is upon us, it’s become clear
to me that I need to push myself to get out there and meet some new
motherfuckers. What’s the best way to
meet people? Online dating sites, of course!
I’m mostly just looking for more people to drink vodka slushies with while dodging the cops in shady areas of town… but apparently I’m supposed to play coy and appear like I have my shit together so that I will be elusive enough to draw in attention from unsuspecting girls on the internet. (When I say ‘unsuspecting girls on the internet’ it really just makes me sound like a predator, doesn’t it? …Ya, that’s what I thought.)
I’m not going to dick you guys around and pretend online dating is a foreign phenomenon to me. I’ve rode that bicycle before… numerous times. I’ve met a lot of people off of the World Wide Web, and for the most part, it’s actually worked out very well (says the single girl.) I’ve made some great friends and my liver has met many highly capable contenders, but let me tell you, it takes patience. And by patience, I mean balls of steel. Allow me to elaborate.
When you online date, you have to brace yourself to feel like a sack of shit, covered in boogers. In other words: You will take your time writing out a witty, concise message to someone you think you’d get along with, take a deep breath and hit ‘send’, and wait for their response. A day later you will see that they’ve since been online, they’ve looked at your profile and decided that you aren’t worthy of their time. What the fuck? You complimented them and made it clear you were just looking for a friendly chat, but they’ve decided you’re a hideous beast from the depths of their nightmares and you should go fuck yourself. (Okay, fine, I may be overreacting, but I’m in a vulnerable place, guys, and these bitches be whack.) Maybe I should consider adding more bling to my profile pics. I hear women like shiny things. (Why yes, I am talking about vajazzling.)
I have only been on the site for about a week and while I’m already pretty fed up with it, I’m trying to stay positive. I have learned, however, to steer clear of it after a bottle or two of wine. Trust me when I say that there is nothing but shame and horror emanating from the computer the following morning when you browse the ‘sent’ folder of your newly pimped-out profile. You probably should have reconsidered messaging that girl to tell her she’s “hot as balls”, or from sending that girl with the boyfriend and kid two ‘e-roses’ alongside an e-card reading “i cuold be yerrrr evreythinging.”
Live and learn, right folks?
While I’m not entirely ready to jump into the ‘dating pool’ just yet, I figured it’s worth getting my toes wet*. In keeping with this theme, I’d like to share with you some insight I’ve gained after reading Cosmo’s tips on how to make a good impression on a first date. Everybody knows that Cosmo knows what’s best in the realm of dating and sex, so you’d be pretty fucking stupid not to listen to these tidbits of journalism brilliance.
*You and I will probably get along if your brain went straight to foot sex when I said “getting my toes wet”. Not because I’m into that (I actually hate feet), but because you’re a filthy sonofabitch and I love you for it.)
The focus of this ‘article’ was to warn women of the possible ‘red flags’ they are waving on first dates. All I can say is thank fucking god Cosmo has warned me of all this wrongdoing! I feel like my womanhood has been saved.
Cosmo Says: You’re a Slut!
OMFG, your e-mail address is with Hotmail? I’m pretty sure that’s the internet equivalent to having sex with horses. Such a faux-pas.Call me when you get an e-mail with another free e-mail provider that’s superior because Cosmo told me so. Maybe then I’ll look past your blasé attitude towards the internet and the evolution of what’s hip.
Here, Cosmo is teaching us ladies the valuable skill of ‘settling.’ We should dangle shiny pendants between our sweater puppies to distract our gentleman callers while we overlook the fact that the douchebag doesn’t wash his sheets. That’s just science, guys. Pure and simple science.I’m going to need to challenge Cosmo a little bit on the smoky eye thing. Applying the knowledge I’ve just acquired from this super helpful dating guide, I say that if a man is more concerned with getting your makeup on his pillow than he is about getting it in, he probably wasn’t successfully distracted by your bejeweled jugs. Try a shinier accessory next time.
Saying you can’t cook is the most blasphemous thing you can say on a date. It will make a man’s penis shrivel up and revert inside of him and you will forever be responsible for taking away his ability to throw his seed on the women of this nation. Be a good bitch and whip up some Kraft Dinner like the rest of us so that your man can feel like he’s chosen a worthy mate. Everyone knows that men can’t cook. That’s just science.
With these neato tips under my belt and a pocket full of valium, I feel much better equipped to take on the world of dating. I will have to rework them so they apply to my homosexual ‘lifestyle’, but that should actually be quite easy. When women date, there are 2 sets of shiny tits, so who the fuck has time for e-mails or cooking, anyway?