Liar Liar…

I’m not a ‘newsy’ girl. I don’t watch it, I don’t read it, I don’t listen to it. It’s not that I don’t care it’s just…I guess I don’t care enough.

I know, I know. That’s awful. But, I’m just being honest (unlike some people…keep reading).

When I see people in the subway or on the street handing out free newspapers, I take them just because I feel bad NOT taking them. I don’t usually read them. Mainly I’ll save them and use them to wrap up books I mail out for my online paperbackswap. (Don’t judge me, it saves me a ton of money on books).

Today, as I was getting ready to use one of said newspapers (AM-NY to be exact) to wrap up a few books, the front story caught my eye:

Lying For Love…33% of city’s singles fib when looking for dates online.

Well, of course, I had to read it. It’s a very quick article (written by Sheila Anne Feeney) – you should take a look when you have a second.

Basically, it states that Woman are more likely to lie about their age and weight, and Men are more likely to lie about their height and income.


Personally, I’ve been on 3 dates from OK Cupid – and only 1 of them was truthful about their height. And I’ve known a few friends who’ve dealt with this ‘little’ white online lie as well. It’s really disappointing.

Typically, I just take off a few inches from the height listed. I’d rather be pleasantly surprised than disappointed.

The article also gives a list of the top 5 “most honest” cities and the top 5 ‘least honest cities’ and their most common lies.

New York and Washington D.C. make the Least Honest list for both Men and Woman.

Photo taken from the AM-NY article writen by Sheila Anne Feeney

Photo taken from the AM-NY article writen by Sheila Anne Feeney

I find it hilarious that the most common lies listed for NY Men are “everything.”


I’m still not quite ready to spend money on a newspaper, but I think I’ll actually give those free ones a read from now on!

And speaking of lying online…this sounds a little sketchy to me.


I feel like if you were on your way to becoming a doctor, saying you were in college getting your masters degree “in being a doctor” probably isn’t how you’d word it.

Maybe I’m wrong. But I think I’ll go with my gut on that one.


Aww Shucks!


I’ve been nominated for a Liebster Award! I have no idea what that means, but I’m oh-so flattered that someone liked my blog enough to nominate me for anything!

So a BIG FAT THANK YOU! to How To Date In Las Vegas for thinking of me. It means a whole lot!

Image from Google Image Search

Image from Google Image Search

The rules for the Liebster are to thank the person who nominated you, answer the 11 question they have asked you, nominate 11 other people and ask them 11 questions in return. According to the guidelines the Liebster award should be sent to bloggers with less than 200 followers so that new bloggers can see how awesome they are!

So, here are my 11 answers:

1. Why did you start your blog?

Every time I talk about my past dates and relationships, I get the same response – ‘you should write a book!’ So…this is my first step! I’m turning my dating lemons into some delicious, refreshing, and (hopefully) entertaining lemonade for you to enjoy.

2. What do you want to be when you grow up?

I’m not sure I ever really want to grow up. But that’s not an answer so…

If I could get paid to write, that would be awesome, but my current career as an Associate Producer will suffice for now.

3. Who do you consider your role model?

I’ve been lucky enough to have so many inspirational people in my life it’s hard to choose one. But my family (and those close enough for me to consider family) inspires me everyday. 

4. What’s your favorite color?

Purple. I’m also really in to Mint Green lately. And Gold.

5. What’s your favorite movie?

I have way too many favorites to list just one – BUT I love The Wizard of OZ so much that I collect the memorabilia. After many years, I’ve got bins full of Wizard of OZ collectables.

Don’t judge me.

6. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

How long to you have? 

I get irritated easily. But I’d have to say I CAN.NOT.STAND when people wear sunglasses at night. Or when boys where their pants at their knees. Both trigger my gag reflexes. 

7. If you could have three wishes, what would they be?

Health, Wealth and Happiness…for myself and my family.

8. What’s your favorite song?

I can’t choose just one. That’s like choosing a favorite child! (Mom, don’t say a word!) It totally depends on my mood, but mainly anything by Prince or Michael Jackson. Sade, Chaka Khan…

Otis Redding‘s “Try A Little Tenderness” will get me up and dancing like Ducky in no time.

Oh, and Moves Like Jagger makes me want to dance like no one’s watching.

Again – don’t judge me.

9. What did you dream about last?

Surprisingly enough an Ex-Boyfriend. One who I would never in a million years even consider dating again. Seriously, as Eminem once said “I wouldn’t piss on fire to put him out”

But, for some reason, he was not only in my dream – but we were *gasp* …Dating!! 

It was more of a nightmare to be honest. And not quite sure where it came from considering I haven’t thought about him in FOREVER.

10. Is a tomato a vegetable or a fruit? Explain? 

I want to say fruit.

After referring to Wikipedia, it looks like I was right:

Botanically, a tomato is a fruit: the ovary, together with its seeds, of a flowering plant. However, the tomato has a much lower sugar content than other edible fruits, and is therefore not as sweet. Typically served as part of a salad or main course of a meal, rather than at dessert, it is considered a vegetable for most culinary uses. One exception is that tomatoes are treated as a fruit in home canning practices: they are acidic enough to be processed in a water bath rather than a pressure cooker as vegetables would require. Tomatoes are not the only food source with this ambiguity: green beanseggplantscucumbers, and squashes of all kinds (such as zucchini andpumpkins) are all botanically fruits, yet cooked as vegetables.

Fruit…Vegetable…to me, a tomato is just heartburn.

11. If you were an animal, what would you be?

My cat, Prince (aka the cat formally known as). Because he’s spoiled and lazy…and so damn adorable.

Ok…so here are my questions:

1. Why did you start your blog? (no one said they had to be different, right?)

2. What do you hope people take away from your blog?

3. What has been your favorite post, thus far?

4. Your house is on fire…what is the one (non living) thing you are taking with you?

5. If you could talk to your 13-year-old self, what would you tell him/her?

6. What is your favorite quote?

7. Going dutch (splitting the bill) on the first date…acceptable or not acceptable?

8. What is the worst pick up line you’ve heard (or used)?

9. What is one thing you hope to accomplish by the end of 2013

10. What is your favorite book?

11. What are 3 material things you couldn’t live without?

And now for the nominees….

Recipes, Health, and Positivity:

Online (or traditional) dating:

From a Man’s perspective:

I’d also like to mention a couple of blogs that I didn’t want to nominate – only because they were already nominated by the person who nominated me! But they are great blogs, and you should check ’em out!

And remember…this award is for bloggers with less than 200 followers! 

way too much

A couple of weeks ago, I received this message on OkCupid. I honestly haven’t read through the whole thing until just now. It’s pretty long – and a bit disturbing considering this is coming from someone I’ve never even exchanged hello’s with. His screen name makes it even worse. I try really hard not to mention people’s real, full, or screen names on here, but I’ll just say it has the word ‘Penetrating’ in it…which really isn’t a good idea for a screen name for an online dating site. Or just a screen name in general, really.

I’m sure this was copied from some Harlequin Novel, and he copies and pastes it to a slew of different women, but it makes for an interesting read, nonetheless…

I’ve decided that it doesn’t make sense to limit the pool of women under consideration to just those relatively few who happen to live within a few miles of me, when it is overwhelmingly likely that the one whose contours best fit my own is among the relatively many who don’t. Geography can be transcended, if necessary. Not finding the right person can’t be.

But distance means relying on our imaginations a bit more at the outset, so, let’s see if mine appeals to you as much as you already appeal to me:

You stood draped in the dusky mist of a moonlit night, alone, in a realm conjured from shared dreams, seducing the unseen and the unknown. You felt my presence, knew I was there admiring you, but somehow couldn’t quite see me in the shadows, weren’t quite sure where to look. Such is the nature of dream realms, not quite like those in which we live, but sometimes more like reality than reality itself, distilled and carved from the fabric of truth.

You knew that your curves, the shimmer of your dark-nylon-clad legs, the draw of your ample cleavage beneath its own translucent veil of fabric, held my eye captive and made my body yearn, and that the dulcet sounds of your voice, like a siren’s song reaching a shipwrecked sailor, filled me with awe and desire.

I’d like to quickly interject that this is clearly a copy and paste deal, because I’m pretty sure ‘ample’ is not the first word that would come to mind when looking at my cleavage. Trust me.

And there you were now, on a balcony overlooking a tapestry of dark shadows amid cascades of soft white moonlight, wondering where I was, who I was, and why I, who knew only a hint of who you were, desired you so ardently.

Somehow, you knew I was in those shadows, had willed me to be there, had conjured me from your own desires. In your heart you knew that I was not a man with any patience left for the dry rituals of modern courtship, the cautious distance and coolness of a world woven of mutual distrust; you had not conjured such a man, had not made manifest any desire for such a man. You wanted, though you feared, something more, a man who lived and loved boldly and responded only to boldness in others. You knew that such a man could only be intrigued by someone with the courage to seduce, and so, like Christine Daaé*, allowed yourself to long for a phantom who filled your darkest dreams.

Christine Eloise Mary Daaé is a fictional character and the female protagonist of Gaston Leroux‘s 1910 novel The Phantom of the Opera. She is a young singer with whom the main character Erik, the Phantom of the Opera falls in love.

image from wikipedia

image from wikipedia

Yes, I had to look that up on Wikipedia. And to be honest, I had to look up most of the words from this message on

And so there you found yourself, draped in moonlight and dark translucence, feeling hidden eyes ravaging you, in the grip of a hard resolve that was both present and remote. You knew my passions and preferences, knew how to overpower me with your allure, how to make me long for you absolutely. You moved with the knowledge of how to do so, of what to reveal and what to hide. You strummed the strings of my imagination like a harpist enchanting a hungry heart, every movement and gesture and sly little smile another note in your symphony of subtle seduction.

You trembled inwardly at the madness of it all, of this creation of a shared space spun from fantasies and fetishes, but knew that it was a sweet madness, an opportunity to experience something unique and wonderful that comes along just once in every several lifetimes. The normal and mundane rituals by which we seek to realize the magic of love are too safe to yield that rare gem. It is a seed that germinates most naturally in chance encounters, and grows in the soil of some combination of uncertainty and excitement.

And so you stood there, on display, aroused by your ability to arouse a man you couldn’t help but be intrigued by. You imagined what it would feel like to have me there with you, devouring you with my eyes, enfolding you in my arms, filling and fulfilling you with my passion. You had strummed the harp of my desires that brought me there, and now longed to be strummed in turn, the harp of your own desire played by a maestro whose every stroke and pluck would elicit moans and murmurs and muffled pleas.

At last you turned away, walked back toward the French doors separating the balcony from the bedroom, wondering if I had been nothing but a mirage after all, something you had imagined and wished for but had never been real. The anticipation and tension in your body began to release, a mixture of disappointment and relief washing over you. But it was just in that moment that you felt me behind you, warm and immediate and very, very real. And your whole body quivered with the realization that something truly extraordinary was about to happen….

To be continued?

No, Sir. This will not be continued. In fact, it never should have begun. And for the record – if I ever felt you behind me, ‘warm, immediate, and very very real,’ the only extraordinary thing that would happen is a heel to your balls or an elbow to your jaw. Juuust sayin’

my first true love

I found out, today, that I have to have (another) upper endoscopy performed to (hopefully) get to the bottom of the stomach issues I have been having for almost a decade now.

I’ve had this done a few times before, so I know the drill…since they sedate you for the procedure, so you need an escort to take you home afterwards. Years ago, I had it done near my family, so finding someone to drive me home was no problem. Now, that I’m almost 30 and living hours away from family, it’s not such an easy task. Especially on a weekday.

One friend offered to take off from work, but I couldn’t ask her to take off from a job she JUST started a couple of weeks ago (I know you’re reading this – and I appreciate your offer 😉 )

I called my Dad to tell him what was going on and before I could even ask if he’d be able to take off work he said “Just tell me when you’re having the procedure done and I’ll be there.”

Just like that.

No questions asked, no thought needed and, really, not up for discussion

(Yes, Mom – I know you would have come as well if I asked you and I love you for it)

After I hung up the phone, it got me thinking about my relationship with my Father. I know this is a blog about dating, relationships, and the many ‘youcantmakethisshitup’ moments that occur during both. But isn’t the relationship with her Father the first relationship a Woman experiences with a Man? And to be honest, I couldn’t make up a better Dad then the one I’ve got.

This post has nothing to do with the link, if any, between a woman’s relationship with her Father and her relationship with Men. I just want to take a second to talk about MY first relationship. My first true love…

My Dad.

me and my Daddy at the Game Farm

One of my oldest memories with my Dad is of him teaching me how to ride a bike. Every day after school he’d take me out for a few hours and try to break me of my training wheels. He’d run along side me, holding on to the back of my seat while I rode up and down our dead-end street. Even though I knew he was holding on, I was terrified! Every bump and wobble made me feel like I’d crash to the pavement. But then I’d look down and see he shadow right beside me, and my fear would subside.

Every few minutes I’d shout “don’t let go, Daddy” and he’d always respond “I’m not going to let go I promise.”

Then I remember one day, after going up and down the street a few times, I looked down to see his shadow moving further and further away from me. I out of the corner of my eye and realized, he wasn’t holding on to my seat anymore! I had been riding for the past few feet on two wheels – all by myself!

Of course I immediately freaked out, lost my balance and my bike started wobbling all over the place. Within seconds he was right there again, steadying me and slowing me down to a stop.

I can’t remember if I was pissed at him or not (knowing me and my attitude at that age, I probably was). But I do remember the feeling I had when I rode that bike by myself for those few seconds. The feeling of doing it on my own, but knowing that he was there to catch me if I happened to fall.

As I got older, I had to BEG him to ‘let go of the seat.’ And I’ll admit, that sometimes his overprotective nature can be a bit annoying. But deep down, I love knowing that he’s the one man – the one person really – that I can ALWAYS count on; to drop any-and every-thing and come out of the shadows to be by my side in seconds whenever I need him.

I’ll be lucky if I find a man who loves me half as much as he does.

laundromat loco

This past summer I had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Neto at the laundromat by my house. And by running into, I mean he chased me down as I was walking out of the door with a bag of clean laundry.

To be honest, he lost me at hello. He had this white crusty shit in the corners of his mouth that made me want to both gag and offer him a glass of water. I didn’t want to be rude since, clearly, he lived in the neighborhood. I figured I’d exchange a little small talk with him  while making it clear that I wasn’t really interested and be on my way.

Neto wasn’t having that.

First of all, this guy did not shut up. He had questions lined up for days! And when I would answer his questions in a vague / I’m-have-no-interest-in-this-conversation way, he would just keep asking the same question until I answered. This is, roughly, how the conversation went:

Excuse me, miss, how you doin’?

I’m fine, thanks.

Oh ok. I’m Neto.

Ok, nice to meet you.

….what’s your name.


Ooh ok…where are you from?


Where upstate?

Near Albany

But where?

*sigh* Uhhh….Catskill.

Oh ok. yeah yeah…pfff…yeah of course, I know Catskill. The Catskills! The Catskill Mountains!

Yeah. Well. It’s the town of Catskill but yeah same thing I g….

Yeah, yeah…me and my family go used to go up there all the time! Bear Mountain and (blahblahblahblah – I was half listening to him at this point)…so I know that area really well.

Oh ok.

So where did you go to school?

Pace University.

Oh ok. Yeah I know Pace. Near the Brooklyn Bridge right?

Well, I went to the Westchester Campus, but yeah the NY one is….

Oooh ok ok ok. Yeah I know Westchester. I have family up there…you know, in Yonkers, New Rochelle, Ossining. All those places.


Where was that campus again?


Riiiigh riiiight…Briarcliff. I know Briarcliff.

Clearly, this Neto knows it all. In fact, I’m not sure why he was even having this conversation with me…he could’ve just had it with himself. He obviously didn’t want me to speak too much since he kept interrupting me every time I answered his stupid questions.

So, what’s your nationality?

*sigh* uhh..I’m Black and Italian.

Ooh ok. Italiano! Nice! Where in Italy is your family from?

I don’t know.

You don’t know? Are they from Napels? Rome? Sicily? Venice?

I really don’t know.

Ooh ok ok. You know my name is actually an Italian name – but I don’t spell it N-I-T-T-O like the Italians do, I spell mine N-E-T-O

I see.

At this point in the conversation there was the slightest bit of a pause – So I jumped on my chance to bow out.

Ok, well I gotta get going.

Oh, alright.

and then the inevitable happened.

Listen…we should keep in touch. Can I get your number?

Mmm…no I don’t think so.

Why not?

I just don’t think it’s a good idea.

But why?

I actually have a boyfriend.

No you don’t

Um..excuse me?

No you don’t. You don’t have a boyfriend. But that’s alright though. I’m good. I’m gooood. I’m a celebrity Personal Trainer, you know, so I’m doing alright in that department.

Was this guy serious? Ok, so maybe I was lying about the boyfriend thing. But only because I tried to just say no without a lie, and he wouldn’t accept it. So I went to the tried and true back up that every woman uses – I pulled the boyfriend card. Now usually, even if the guy does think you’re lying, he has a bit more self-respect and dignity to actually call you a liar to your face. It just makes him look crazy. AND there is no way to prove that I’m lying…so if I’m not lying you look like a real asshole. As all this is going through my head, all I could do was giggle and say:

Oh that’s great.

My clients have been in magazines! I work with Sean John models and all kinds of celebrities so that’s alright I’m good. Trust me.

Great. Good for you. I’m still not interested.

I’m serious. I’ve done some modeling too. You see all this Nike I’m wearing? Head to toe? That’s because they sponsor me.

Little did he know, I don’t even like Sean John, or Puffy, or P-Diddy or whatever the hell he goes by. I think his music sucks, his clothes suck, and everything about his persona sucks. But at this point I’m starting to get annoyed, and embarrassed for him. His desperation and insecurity was becoming unbearable…as was the crust building up in the corners of his mouth.

Listen. Clearly, you’re talking to the wrong woman because I am really not impressed by any of that. So I’m going to go now. Have a good one, k?

Yeah alright. That’s fine. It’s all good….(continues babbling as I walk away)

For a while I completely forgot about Neto. I saw him once or twice over the summer, walking down the block without a shirt on (which is actually a huge turn off for me even if it isn’t coming from a desperate psycho. Unless we’re at the beach or in the bed room – keep you damn shirt on). But I never ran into him at the laundry mat again.

Until today.

It was a holiday, so instead of doing my laundry on Sunday, like I typically do, I decided to wait until today since I had the day off. Clearly everyone else was thinking the same thing because it was PACKED. All was going pretty well…I had managed to split up my clothes into the available washers and was waiting for the final spin cycle to be complete when Neto walked in.

Muther. F**k*r

Thank God for my iPhone, which faithfully kept me busy so I didn’t risk making eye contact with the crazy.

Then, as he was walking past me with a clothing cart, he almost ran my toes over (like I said it was PACKED) and he said ‘excuse me, excuse me, sorry about that miss’

Holy Shit. This guy doesn’t remember me. SWEET!!!!

Little did I know, that wasn’t such a good thing. I was about to experience Groundhogs Day with Neto.

My final spin cycle finished and there were three driers open and waiting for me. I took a look around and Neto was no where in sight. I just might get out of here without a run in! So I put my clothes in and watched them dry, while making some small talk with the woman next to me.

About 10 / 15 minutes later, guess who comes around the corner and starts looking for a drier.


Realizing there weren’t any available at that moment, he decided to stand right next to me and wait for one to free up.


Shit shit shit.

I should have just walked outside, but I didn’t want to leave my clothes unattended. And then it happened.

Hey, how you doin’?

I’m fine, thanks.

Oh ok. I’m Neto.

Ok, nice to meet you.

….what’s your name.


Oh ok…who gave you that name?

*incredibly confused look* uuhh…my…pa…rents…?

No I know I know, I figured that, I wasn’t sure if you knew which one gave it to you. Like, my Dad named my sister, so my Mom named me. I wasn’t sure if your parents had something worked out like that.

I…don’t know.

Ooh ok…where are you from?


Where upstate?

Near Albany

But where?

*sigh* Uhhh….Catskill.

Oh ok. yeah yeah…pfff…yeah of course, I know Catskill. The Catskills! The Catskill Mountains!

Yeah. Well. It’s the town of Catskill but yeah same thing I g….

Yeah, yeah…me and my family go used to go up there all the time! Bear Mountain and (blahblahblahblah – I was half listening to him at this point)…so I know that area really well.

Oh ok.

So what do you do?

I work in TV

Doing what?

I’m an Associate Producer and Editor.

Oh yeah? For what channel?

(I told him the network I work for)

Oh ok. Where is that located?

umm…in the soho area.

oh..yeah I had some clients that worked for that company. They were over near Hudson. They just opened a IHOP over there.

Yeah, that’s around my job.

Oh. well that’s the West Village. That’s not SoHo.


Yeah, I was gonna say, I know where (TV network) is. But when you said SoHo you through me off. Yeah, that’s the West Village.


Yeah, ’cause I worked at a couple of gyms around there. A bunch of gyms I’ve worked at are near TV networks. I worked up at Reebok near Columbus and (blahblahblahblahblah I tuned him out)…so how long have you been in TV?

For a while.

Oh ok. Where were you before?


Ooh. haaha. right up near Columbus right? Near the Reebok gym?

Yep. One of my coworkers had a membership there.

Pfff…one of your coworkers? you mean ALL of your coworkers? Yeah. I know ’cause they gave the ABC employees a discounted rate. You didn’t go?

I had a week pass from a coworker, but …

Right yeah, they give those out all the time, and then they give you a discount after if you want to sign up.


So where did you go to school?

Pace University.

Oh ok. Yeah I know Pace. Near the Brooklyn Bridge right?

Well, I went to the Westchester Campus, but yeah the NY one is….

Oooh ok ok ok. Yeah I know Westchester. I have family up there…you know, in Yonkers, New Rochelle, Ossining. All those places.


Where was that campus again?


Riiiigh riiiight…Briarcliff. I know Briarcliff.

Yep…that’s right. Pretty much the same EXACT conversation. I shit you not. He even cut me off in the same places.

Did you like college?


Yeah. I’m a Tar Heels guy myself. I had fun in college. A lot of my friends said they didn’t want to leave because once you left it was into the real world – starting your career and families…


Bless the old man who needed the machine I was blocking. I could have kissed him when he interrupted our conversation. I tried to make some small talk with the old guy, but he wasn’t really trying to chit-chat, and unlike some people (NETO) I pick up on body language and other non verbal signs.

Neto went on about this and that until my clothes finally finished drying. Actually, they weren’t completely dry, but I had to get the hell out of there. The damp stuff would have to hang over my radiators.

The old man and his clothing cart were blocking Neto in, so I tried to shove my clothes in my bag as fast as I could and head out while he was still barricaded in the corner. As soon as I stood up to walk away, I heard Neto behind me:

So we should keep in touch.

I ignored him. My back was facing him, so it was totally believable that I just didn’t hear him. I practically ran out of there, and he was right on my tail.

Can I help you with your bags?

No, I got it.

Oh, well let me get the door for you.

I got it.

Now we’re outside and I know I’m in trouble.

So, we should keep in touch.

Oh…sorry, I have a boyfriend.

No you don’t. No you don’t. You don’t have a boyfriend.

I had flashbacks to the last conversation and I just couldn’t do it again. Not only could I not endure his ego masturbation, or his desperate attempts to impress a woman he doesn’t even know with (what I’m sure was) a load of bullshit. It was too sad. And I couldn’t let him do it to himself. Or me.

Mainly me.

So I laughed and said:

Ooookay buddy, whatever you say. You have a good one.

I’m a celebrity trainer! It’s all good!

I heard the swish swish swish of his bright purple wind breakers coming up behind me (yeah…so much for a Nike sponsorship. He looked like he borrowed Barney’s sauna suit) and eventually walking past me.

That’s ok. I work with Celebrities! Ha-HA! It’s all good! You have a good day!


I dropped my clothes off and ran to the grocery store. Better to get all my errands done at once so I could relax once I got in the house and settled. As I’m picking out some healthy snacks in the produce isle, guess who walks in? Neto. Coincidentally he comes in less than 2 minutes after me. And coincidentally he walks past me in the produce isle, on his cell phone in the middle of – what he would like me to believe was – a conversation regarding a celebrity client.

All I heard was:

Blahblahblahblah Sean John. Blahblahblah photo shoot. Blahblahblah Sean John.

I wanted to laugh. But I felt kind of bad for him. Clearly this guy is Cray Cray.

the freaks come out online

I joined a free online dating site a few months ago. Since I wasn’t having any luck meeting men the old fashioned way (bars, libraries, cafe’s, street corners) I decided to give the virtual dating world a try.

Also I promised my friends I’d do it if I didn’t get a date by the end of the summer…sigh.

Now, almost 6 months later, my love life is still non-existent, but I do have an inbox full of funny (and sometimes scary) messages, and a growing number of interesting first date stories. Of course I have zero second date stories…but I’m working on it.

Here are some of my favorite messages thus far…


Hey what’s up I’m looking for some one with they head right I’n my area that I can spend some time with get our head right together if that’s you hit me up boo
I’m pretty sure this guy pronounces area, ERRrea. Just  a hunch.
is curiosity to see a gf with another guy really that abnormal?… just started doubting myself and wanted your opinion
Would you like to be my open ended friend?
I don’t even know what that means.
Hello, you are very beautiful and if I was a rich man, I would buy you a pearl necklace. But I’m not, so all I have to offer you is my charming personality. Now to tell you a little about myself. My name is L***. I am a 32 yr. old retired artist/writer who is just trying to find his way in the world. I am a modern old fashioned man trapped in old fashioned modern world. I try to make sense to people with no sense in a nonsense world, but with no luck what I say doesn’t make sense to people with no sense who rather believe in nonsense, if that make sense to you. I’m a non-believer and an overachiever, who believes he has yet to achieve what I believe that I can achieve, if you can believe. Let’s talk sometime, get to know each other and stuff like that.
A 32 year old retired artist / writer?? C’mon dude, you’re unemployed. Let’s just be real. And Pearls? Really? If you were a rich man, I’d hope you’d at least offer to buy me diamonds.
December 20, 2012: Would you like to fall in love with me?
January 25, 2013: I love you
No thank you. And yes, these are both from the same person.