Cick on Me
Last week I was asked to submit a relationship article to a magazine based on personal experience with an angle of attracting men in todays society. Based on my "attraction" track record as of late, I spit out my Fruit Loops onto my key board while reading the editors email assignement.
Last week I was asked to submit a relationship article to a magazine based on personal experience with an angle of attracting men in todays society. Based on my "attraction" track record as of late, I spit out my Fruit Loops onto my key board while reading the editors email assignement.
What was I going to write about? Me? What a joke!
There was only one thing to do without really doing it.
This clearly called for a test.
Later that evening while feeling a little warm all over from a glass of wine, I decidedly submitted a profile of myself to an online club touting Business & Friend Connections. It was an offer I received earlier in the day through a NYC Magazine as a "valued" subscriber. So what the hell..I pour myself another glass of wine and decided to go for it. I also have to admit to a inquisitiveness as to what sort of bait I would be. I've been feeling a bit dejected lately, and thought this may even spark some self esteem again...what could it hurt. Right?
Wanting to appear funny and witty, thinking it would attract only the best like minded creative's (although I couldnt fit all of this) my profile went something like to following:
>About me: Fun, sassy, witty......... love humor, business of all sorts, travel (who doesn't) new restaurants, wine, strolling in the evenings, talking, anything art related, the ocean, theatre, dance, museums. A non smoker, 5'7, 119 lbs, three grown children. No warts, moles or funky birthmarks that will shock you when it's "to damn late"...... shave legs on a regular basis. Flossing is my passion.
Down side: I don't cook, I heat.
Looking for: Trendy, creative, cute as hell, down to earth, fun, easy-going type who loves to explore, must love good food and wine , (This excludes any form of hot dish, salads, Spam, boxed wine or wine coolers)
I may be able to spoil you.
No bean bag chairs, black light posters, water beds, ten foot speakers you stole from a drive-in in 1982, no Vegas shot glasses filled with penny's, beer can collections or Budweiser beach towels doubling as drapes. No weird attachments, fetishes, or strange double-life, unless you are a highly paid CIA agent...then you can lie to me...but only then.
No mullets, smoking, gold chains, missing or yellow teeth, no back hair, or overly puffy pubes in "the region," no bowling leagues, no Star Wars or "Treckie" paraphernalia, no hunters, fishers or outdoor types, no beards, no cats or Super Man sheets, no credit scores matching your best golf game. Must own all original teeth and hair with checking account in good standing.
Please don't be rich, just be paid up.
Must not part hair. Must understand what "hair product" is. Must be updated on world events and that does not mean wrestling or Orange County Choppers.
No white undershirts, no "briefs", no Sponge Bob Square Pants shaped bodies, no trucks with light up running boards, Playboy or carpet mud flaps. No pool playing lotto ticket scratch-off types, no accountant types, if you love numbers, don't email. If you have a left brain, don't email. If you need a mommy. Don't email. I will not breast feed you.
*I have added an honest current photo of myself after a bad day with severe PMS and red eyes taken last weekend. So basically you are seeing me at my worst. If this doesn't scare you, contact me and we can possibly move forward.
******
Soon the little Cupid icon in the corner of my screen began whizzing and smoking with hits, making little bow and arrow sounds. I was amazed... It only took two minutes! I have men sending me a "WINK"....so I eagerly opened them up, and about fell on the floor.
This is NOT A JOKE!
Must not part hair. Must understand what "hair product" is. Must be updated on world events and that does not mean wrestling or Orange County Choppers.
No white undershirts, no "briefs", no Sponge Bob Square Pants shaped bodies, no trucks with light up running boards, Playboy or carpet mud flaps. No pool playing lotto ticket scratch-off types, no accountant types, if you love numbers, don't email. If you have a left brain, don't email. If you need a mommy. Don't email. I will not breast feed you.
*I have added an honest current photo of myself after a bad day with severe PMS and red eyes taken last weekend. So basically you are seeing me at my worst. If this doesn't scare you, contact me and we can possibly move forward.
******
Soon the little Cupid icon in the corner of my screen began whizzing and smoking with hits, making little bow and arrow sounds. I was amazed... It only took two minutes! I have men sending me a "WINK"....so I eagerly opened them up, and about fell on the floor.
This is NOT A JOKE!
Was I not clear somehow?
Am I wrong or is #3 and #4 the SAME guy?.... one shot with a wig??? Who takes a photo with a bird or a violin?? Number two is straddling a dead body, one needs to meet five, so they can get it on and over with, and the one guy...reminds me of Ted Nugent but really pissed off.
These are clearly sex addicts, parolees, mental patients, chronic masturbating confused switch-hitters, trying to get laid ONE more time before they decide if they really ARE gay, ...OMG ...AM I THAT FLIPPING UGLY??????? WILL ANYONE TELL ME HONESTLY???
(I'm now in the fetal position with my lips wrapped around a bottle)
I'm game for any sort of makeover, on TV or off. You can go through my closet, hack my hair, dye it black, ...I cannot live another day knowing that I have gone from being cat-called by tan hard bodied men that I could of had my way with, any summer on Clearwater Beach, only a decade ago.... to this. I decided to remove this silly profile of mine, first thing in the morning. I'm too tired tonight...off to bed, stunned at this new reality. I almost cry myself to sleep.
Am I wrong or is #3 and #4 the SAME guy?.... one shot with a wig??? Who takes a photo with a bird or a violin?? Number two is straddling a dead body, one needs to meet five, so they can get it on and over with, and the one guy...reminds me of Ted Nugent but really pissed off.
These are clearly sex addicts, parolees, mental patients, chronic masturbating confused switch-hitters, trying to get laid ONE more time before they decide if they really ARE gay, ...OMG ...AM I THAT FLIPPING UGLY??????? WILL ANYONE TELL ME HONESTLY???
(I'm now in the fetal position with my lips wrapped around a bottle)
I'm game for any sort of makeover, on TV or off. You can go through my closet, hack my hair, dye it black, ...I cannot live another day knowing that I have gone from being cat-called by tan hard bodied men that I could of had my way with, any summer on Clearwater Beach, only a decade ago.... to this. I decided to remove this silly profile of mine, first thing in the morning. I'm too tired tonight...off to bed, stunned at this new reality. I almost cry myself to sleep.
I have to come to terms with the fact that I am apparently; ugly.Yes, a pathetic woman who has gone temporarily insane on a mere two glasses of Harris Teeter wine she picked up while buying tampons and Chex Mix the day before. .... Stay tuned..it's early yet..
1 comment:
Once again, as always, ONE comment just jumps out and smacks me in the face: crying, lying in the fetal position, with my lips wrapped around the bottle. Get OUT! Laugh? You bet I did. Brava. Brava. I guess it does no good for a GIRL to say you're cute; you need the male affirmation. Too bad. I could have saved you the bother of a two-buck-Chuck wine hangover!
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