What a World We Live In — Junkified

There is nothing better than receiving an unasked for Dick PIC on a beautiful Friday morning.  Seriously, what has this world come to.  You can’t even have a drink with a man without him assuming that’s code for “please send me a picture of your flaccid penis.”

Maybe I’m getting old, but is this really what dating has become?  What happened to the old fashion style of getting to know someone before showing them your genitals? This type of courtship, believe it or not, does not work for me.  I’m sorry to break it to you men, but a nake pic of your weiner will not get you a second date with me.  Let me tell you what kind of reaction you will get from me….

First, I will tell you to stop messaging me, and I will likely throw a few not so choice words in the mix.  Second, I am going to show everyone I know your ity bity dinky, and we will all laugh at it.  Is that what you were hoping for?  If so, you succeeded.  Every girl in my office has had a good ol’ laugh at your bits today.  I would think most men are not looking for laughter when it comes to their penis.  But, hey, what do I know — I have an innie.

I will never understand the thought process behind sending dick pics.  Maybe that’s it — there is no thought.  Just a primal instinct to get the dick out there and see who bites.  In this post, I’d like to get the message out to all them dick pic sending men in the world.  PLEASE STOP!  You will have much better luck by being a gentleman.  Even if you have an amazing looking Tool, we still don’t want to get a picture of it.  There may be a select few out there that this will work on, but is that really the type of woman you are looking for?  I sure hope not.

I don’t know if it’s a thing for men to receive unwanted female junk pics, but if it is, well shame on the women sending them.  Have some respect for yourselves.  On that note — I’m off for an afterwork Friday beverage.  I need something to erase the floppy noodle picture stuck in my brain.

Happy Friday Bloggers and may you all have a junk pic free weekend.

Date Night or Fright Night

Image result for scary dates

It has occured to me that my romance skills might be a little out of date and practice.  It has, in fact, been over 3.5 years since I was in a romantic relationship, so it’s safe to say, I’ve likely lost the touch: not that I had much of one to begin with.

Dating is a skill, and it take great practice and flirting abilities.  I can flirt; I can actually be quite the little hussy when I want to be, but only with “safe” men.  Safe, unattainable, already taken men.  Men that enjoy the attention, but who are already taken, so the flirting is only a game — just for fun.  When it comes to single, attractive, and desirable men, my flirting abilities take a gigantic nose dive into a big pile of SH*T.  It’s very possible I’m allergic to eligible men.  Instead of a rash, I break into bad jokes and inappropriate comments.

Now if I meet a man that I’m unsure of, I tend to do ok.  For some reason, I seem to be able to charm the pants off men when I have little to no interest in them.  A perfect example of this happend just this past weekend.  I decided to accept a date with a guy I had been chatting with on Tinder.  We met at a local pub to have a drink, and then I invited him over to watch a movie.  I don’t typically invite strangers over, but he seems pretty harmless, so I took a chance.  I made a point of clarifying my intentions.  It was a movie invite, and by movie invite I did not mean sex.  Some guys get confused, and it’s important to ensure their understanding before moving forward.  He seems to understand:  Movie – yes, Sex – no.  I made him repeat this a few times just to make sure he had it.  He really did seem to be getting it, so we asked for the bill and prepared to leave.   As we got up from our table, I realized he was short.  Really short, like a good 2 inches shorter than me, and I am only 5’4.  I have a preference for taller guys, but I didn’t want to be superficial, so I shrugged it off, and away we went.

We purchased a bottle of wine at the beer store and headed back to my place to watch Conjuring 2.  I sat on the opposite side of the couch from him, so that he understood the terms of the movie watching date.  However, when I got up to go get us another glass of wine, his hand went straight for my “area.”  WTF.  It wasn’t like we were making out, and he thought he test the waters.  No, he just reach out and grabbed her like she was some sort of squeeze toy.  I politely said, “please don’t do that.”  He laughed, but then apologized when he saw that I was serious.  This did not discourage him, however. He slowly inched his way next to me on the couch and I spent the rest of the movie swatting his hand away from my T&A&V.  Needless to say, I was completely turned off, and I asked him to leave.  I thought I made my point, but the next day he sent me a text to tell me how much fun he had.  SERIOUSLY.  I’ve since blocked him.  This was frustrating, but I look at it like this: with each one I don’t want, I only get closer to the one I do.






Your Profile Name Say’s it All

Curiosity has bitten me right on the behind this morning. What am I curious about you might ask?  Well let me tell you.  As a fairly inquisitive person, my thoughts have wondered to the minds of today’s single men.  To be perfectly honest, I’m completely perplexed by their behaviour.  Of course being a woman, it’s logical that I will not totally relate to the opposite sex; however, still I wonder.

I, like many single women, have an online dating profile because I hope to someday meet the man of my dreams.  If anyone has ever experienced online dating, you will probably agree that this is likely not the best platform for meeting Mr. Right.  But, one never knows.  I’ve chatted with many different types of men over my last few single years, and by this point, I can generally tell what type of guy the person is by his profile name.

Let’s look at just a few of the profile names that popped up this morning:

Bigbluzucchini – This is a man, who I can only assume is referring to himself as a large blue penis.

YoungBuck69 – Here we have a young boy looking for a cougar.  No thank you; I’ll pass.

Lovetofrolic6969 – I need not explain, as I’m sure you get the picture here.

Sunnybunnyday – This one confuses me a little.  Does he mean he is like a happy bunny?  If so, that’s just weird.

Rideon2016 – definately, a Harley guy.  Good for him.

Readytomoveon – No, no you are not.  If you are using this phrase as your profile name, it’s clear you are only trying to convince yourself.

Nocrazybitches – This man obviously is a jerk, who drives woman to craziness.  Personally, the only time I turn into a crazy bitch is when I’m dating a complete A’hole to begin with.

Jackrabbit2020 – I’m sorry guys, but woman don’t really like it when you hump like a rabbit.

HSV0101 – For those of you who do not know wht HSV stands for, it’s Herpies.  Not exactly marraige material.

Romancingthebone – Oh please… this is not original.

As you can see, profile names can really say a lot.

Men, I understand that it can be a challenge to come up with a unique profile name.  You all want to stand out in the crowd, and I applaud you for not picking your last name followed by your birth year.  However, who exactly are you trying to attract on this site?  Have you considered your audience when preparing your profile?  Have any of you ever actually met a real woman?  If so, do you really think your profile name is going to impress them?

What really has me confused is that half of these men claim to be looking for something serious.  Many of them comment “no games please” or “looking for a quality woman” in their profiles.  I guess it is possible that these guys are completely clueless, and they don’t realize the image they are portraying.  Again, I am a woman, so I can’t really comment on how a man’s brain works.  What I wouldn’t give to go back to the old days of dating.  Back to before I was married, and meeting a man happened in person.  Oh well — such is life!  Eventually, Mr. Greatguyforyou will come along, and my time spent in the online dating world will be a distant memory.



I’m a Weekend Dating Soldier

“How was your weekend?” says everyone on Monday morning.  My answer is always “good.”  I don’t usually elaborate because the details of my weekend are not particularily exciting.  According to Facebook, everyone but me partakes in some extroardinary weekend adventure. “Just hiked the grouse grind – loving life”, “Peter asked me to marry him – I said yes”, “Skied all day- and partied all night”… I often wonder if it’s time to get off Facebook; it’s just a constant reminder that everyone else’s life is so much more interesting than mine.

I’m not complaining, as I love my weekends.  I get up early each day, make my coffee and breakfast, and sit down to a couple of solid hours of online studies.  Next, I put the laundry on and walk the dog.  The rest of my day is filled with grocery shopping, working out, coffee with friends (occasionally), reading, and housework.  I get a lot accomplished on my days off, and it feels great.  On extremely rare occasions, I agree to a date from one of my online dating candidates.  As a matter of fact, this weekend began with one of these rare meetings.

As I’ve mentioned in earlier blogs, online dating and me don’t work well together.  But with a busy life, it’s hard to find other ways to meet people.  So, even though 100% of the dates I’ve been on so far have been duds, I still cling to hope.  Thursday night I was browsing through my dating inbox messages and responding to the ones I found potentially interesting.  One of the messages I decided to respond to was from a gentleman who has been asking me out for over four months.  So far I have declined every invitation for the following reasons: he lives just over an hour out of town, he doesn’t drink, and he only has two pictures of himself posted.  The pictures he has chosen to post leave a lot to the imagination, so I couldn’t determine if I found him attractive or not. Needless to say, I decided to give it a shot – you never do know if love is right around the corner.  He let me pick the place, and we agree to meet on Friday at 6:00 p.m.

Because I have been disappointed so often with dates, I no longer get excited for them.  However, I do make an effort.  I clean my house, shave my legs (just in case), get somewhat dolled up, and show up on time.  I like to be the first one there – that way I have a moment to collect myself.  This evening was no different.  I arrived two minutes early and grabs some seats at the bar (the only seats available).  My date showed up ten minutes late, but since I had already ordered a glass of wine, I don’t care.  I see at the door when he arrives, and I watch as he scans the room.  I had sent him a text message letting him know where I was sitting, so I thought he would walk right up to me. But he doesn’t seem to know where to go, and I feel as though I should wave him over (I don’t).  After a few minutes, he checks his phone for messages, and I give him the ‘once over’ – I’m think, “not as good as the pictures.”  I return to my wine and let him find me.

I feel him approach, and I turn slowly to greet him – pretending I hadn’t already seen him at the door.  He opens his mouth to introduce himself and I know.  I know immediately that I don’t like him.  It’s in the way he carries himself, and the awkward way he is looking at me.  He slouches into the seat beside me, and I notice him heave his large belly on his lap.  I try not to be superfical; however, being a fitness trainer, I tend to be more attracted to men who look after themselves.  I shake the thought out of my head, and tell myself to give it a chance – and I try, I try hard.  Within five minutes, however, I’m ready to go home.  I won’t get into details of the date because they are terribly boring, and honestly I don’t want to re-live those moments.  Social awkward does not even begin to describe this man. Nothing he said was in context, and I was getting the “creep” vibe.  It took every ounce of my being to make conversation with him, and I uncomfortable the whole date.  I paid way too much attention to my wine, and I was thankful when the food arrived.  At least then he would be busy eating, and he wouldn’t be able to talk.  Once dinner was over, I excused myself and found my way to the bathroom.  I took my time; giving myself a bit of a breather.  Luckily when I arrived back at our seats, he was paying the bill.  The date was over.  I braved the storm, and I survived.

Unfortuantely, this is how many of my dates turn out.  Men seem to fall into certain categories: boring, dirty pig, deadbeat, rebounder, noncommittal, or clinger.  Yet still, I soldier on into the battle field of middle-aged dating.  I fight for my right to find love; I fight to bring an end to my lonley existence, and I fight because the alternative is not an option – at least not yet.  I believe true love exists for me.  I need to believe it does. This is why I put on my battle gear and face the army of undesirable men.  With each man down, I am closer to finding the one soldier left standing.  The one who can stand up to my power – the one of my dreams.