I stole this idea from Random Chick.
5 years old Girls have coodies. Ewwww!
8 years old Yes, definitely, girls have coodies.
12 years old Okay, they don’t all have coodies. In fact, I think that girl over there is damn near coodie-free.
16 years old That bitch broke my heart.
20 years old That bitch broke my heart. But now I can drink my pain away.
25 years old Women, bah! Who needs ‘em?
Today Why am I the only one not married?
I recently took an online dating persona test on okcupid. I don’t know why.
Yadda yadda yadda, here’s the results, cuz I know, you’re dying to know.
The Mixed MessengerDeliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLD) Just…take…the…fucking…flower…darling. The Mixed Messenger apologizes again. You’re looking for love, but you’ll always maintain your independence. You’re prepared for a real commitment, but it’s also likely that you’re ambitious, which creates a certain romantic tension and ambivalence within you. So although you can be very affectionate to someone, you are also capable of pulling some dubious shit. In a relationship, you’re usually the emotional leader. With your friends, you’re a little bit more part of the pack. You’re well-liked but you’re not the uninhibited type, so the spotlight’s often on someone else. In both social and romantic situations, however, you almost always get what you want. Influencing people is something you do very well. Your exact male opposite: The Playboy  Random Gentle Sex Master Always avoid: The Playstation (RGSM), The Peach (RGLM) Consider: The Priss (DBLD) |
| Link: The Online Dating Persona Test @ OkCupid - singles |
Well folks, does that sound like me?
And this is for Maxie (if you’re reading this), one of the questions was really messed up. A real WYRW question, “Who would I rather catch me masterbating? mom or dad.” Don’t know if you’ve used that one, yet, but it’s really, really, rea-eally nasty to even think about it. I’m still shaking a little bit.
This morning, insomnia reared its ugly head yet again. My usual nocturnal television watching habits therefore returned as well.
CNN was focusing its efforts on the goings on in Detroit. You see, the mayor of Detroit is being brought up on charges of lying under oath in regards to having had an affair with his chief of staff. (I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: if our elected officials can’t get a little pussy on the side, what hope is there for the rest of us?) It seemed to me that everybody on the Lou Dobbs show last night was black. All the key figures in the story (the mayor and his chief of staff) were black. All the guests and so-called experts brought in to discuss this story were black. It just seemed a bit odd to me. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Or maybe CNN wants only black people talking about news stories involving black people.
Eventually I grew bored of the news and watched King of the Hill instead. In this episode, Hank was being courted to join a country club that caters to Asian Americans. The club needed him to join in order to appease the PGA and show that the club has white members.
Why do we still judge people based on the colour of their skin? It’s so much easier to judge people by their political affiliations. Oh, what’s that you say? You’re a Liberal. Well fuck you Libby! We don’t want you kind ’round here! Why don’t you go home and smoke a doobie with Maggie Trudeau and Keith Richards. You make me sick.
In completely unrelated news, remember that contest in which my friend Columbia put up $500 as an incentive to get Bob to go out and get laid. Well, the Wonder Twins look to be adding some incentive on top of that.
Recently, Bob has let it be known that he wants to cocoon himself in his home and play video games online. He’s just missing the XBox he would need to play the games. It looks like the Wonder Twins are going to offer up an XBox to Bob as a reward if he can pick up a woman.
Speaking of gaming, I’ve been playing a bit lately too. A game called Rainbow Six Vegas. I’m a picky guy when it comes to video games. I like a first person shooter that’s not so realistic. But this game is slowly growing on me. Or maybe I just like running around shooting Mexicans.
Editor’s Note — This is an update of an old post. The world continues to turn, my tastes continue to grow, shrink, differ.
Who is the perfect woman for me? What is she like? What makes her tick?
The perfect woman, if she really exists (I doubt it) would have to be single. I’m not going after another man’s woman… again. I don’t feel right crushing a man… again.
Personality
She has to get my sense of humour, at least a bit. I’m always cracking jokes and it would be nice if somebody got them. But not too much of a laugher. I don’t want a laugh slut. I need the challenge to keep my humour fresh. When she does laugh, none of this tee-hee prissy prissy little girl stuff. Let it out, dammit!
Politics
Liberal, conservative, leftist, rightist, communist, fascist; I really don’t care. But she needs to be passionate about her own views and respectful of other’s. I can’t take this voter apathy crap that’s destroyed this country. Take a stand based on a logical point of view of the issue. No fence-sitters are going to get in my pants anytime soon.
Linguistic Abilities
I don’t like women (or anybody for that matter) who use too many big words. What are they trying to prove? Are they trying to show-off and make people feel small by using words that only English professors can spell? Or maybe I’m insecure about my own intelligence. Either way, I don’t like being made to feel stupid; and people who use big words make me feel stupid. The perfect woman would speak eloquently, but not over my head. Eloquence is good. (My perfect woman would get that joke.)
Sex
Sluts need not apply. I don’t want to be a woman’s first sexual partner, but I don’t want to be just another in a long line of cunt-stuffers. I guess I’m an old fashioned kind of guy. I want it to be meaningful and special. I don’t want her to call out another guy’s name halfway through. But I am okay with some of the kinky stuff. Maybe not as okay as Bob, but I’m sort of game.
I’m a little bit insecure about myself on certain matters and I can see myself dealing with jealousy over the woman’s previous partners. I know those partners would be out of the picture, but it would be something clawing at the back of my mind.
Appearance
Sure, I’m going to be shallow here, but this is the non-existant perfect woman. She can look however I want her to look.
She’s 5′6″-ish. Long hair, not too long though. No boy haircuts please. Five pounds overweight, that way I can tell she appreciates a good meal. Ever seen a bonerack enjoy a meal? NO! That’s because they enjoy refunding it just as much, if not more. Symmetrical face, chest and ass. No ugly boobs please. Other than that, big titties, small titties, its all good.
She has to have a pretty smile. That’s very important. Nice tits and a sweet ass are great and all, but it will get to a point where I will have to look at her face because she’ll probably get peeved when I have a conversation with her chest.
Her attire would be that of a woman who respects herself and her surroundings. She would dress appropriately for the occasion. No wearing jeans to a funeral and no cleavage at church, if you know what I mean.
Music
A chick who can play guitar is HOT!
She doesn’t listen to whatever’s big today because it’s big today then forgets all about it tomorrow. It takes time to appreciate good music. She understands that.
Karaoke singing is okay, its fun. Ham it up.
The 5 Questions
Here are the five questions answered by my perfect woman.
Athleticism
A woman who can throw and catch a baseball is pretty cool. But a woman who is too competitive when playing sports is not. There are two kinds of people who play sports long after the point when its no longer going to go anywhere: people who play for fun and people who play to win. The perfect women would play for fun.
She has to play pool. Or at least, bend over a lot to compensate for not playing pool. I like to watch women bend over. That makes me sound like a pervert, but it’s not perverted if she’s my significant other.
Chemical Dependancy
A glass of wine with dinner is a good thing but not a requirement. Reeking of scotch at noon is bad thing, a very bad thing. Smoking, bad. Drugs, very bad. Regular use of over-the-counter pain relievers, very unattractive.
Religion
Having faith in a higher power is okay, but the perfect woman wouldn’t take it to far. I don’t think I could be with a woman who kicks up ten percent. Believing a religion doesn’t mean it can’t be scrutinized from time to time.
Employment
I’d like a woman who has the ability to hold down a steady job. But a job that requires her to wear clothes. I can’t date a stripper or a whore. It kinda goes hand-in-hand with my desire to not be just a cunt-stuffer.
Family
If her family is crazier than mine, she’s out. I have to attribute much of my looney behaviour to the fact it’s in my blood. So if her parents make mine look like normal sane people, then she’s going to have some problems that I don’t want to deal with.
Yeah, I’m a picky guy. I’ve got some high standards. But notice how I have NOT specified she doesn’t play those stupid little mind games that all women play.
5 Reasons Why You Should Date a Fat..Err..Voluptuous Girl NOW!
I have nothing to add to that post other than gratitude. Blue Wave Ted, thank you, thank you so very much. Keep up the great work.
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything substantial about those wacky little gremlins on the airplane of life, women.
The bar is a very odd place in this world. It is quite unlike any other place in the world. The bar is where women have all the power and it’s much more obvious there than any place else. Not all men know that women have all the power in the world, sure those who’ve read my series on women know that as well as any men with like minds to mine. But in the bar, every man knows that in those four walls, women are more powerful.
In the bar, the women are all powerful. They are the judge, jury and executioner.
Here is the situation. A man walks into a bar (ouch). He sees a woman. The woman sees him. If that man wants to talk to that woman, he must make every move, not just the first. This man, before going upto the woman, has to deal with the most difficult decision any man ever has to make more than once: be yourself or be creative. By being yourself, the man just says “Hello, my name is…” or some simple variant. Thus relying on some physical characteristic (an appealling appearance) to not make the woman turn around in indifference. To be creative, the man knows that his appearance isn’t going to get him the woman’s name, so he has to use some hyper-personality behaviour to make an impression on the woman. This is where the silly pickup lines come into play. They really only work on a select few women and are often aided by the man’s physical appearance. For an ugly man, there really is no hope of meeting a woman.
Women differ greatly from men in this situation. If a woman (like this will ever happen) actually went upto a man and did the “Hello, my name is…” line, it will always work. Women deny the validity of that statement. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, women will mess with a man’s mind just because they can. They know it works, but they will never do it. Those who’ve said they’ve done it, are lying. Again, women lie.
Women refuse to accept the fact that it is difficult for a guy to approach a gal. Of course, when the shoe is on the other (more slender) foot, the woman’s response is always “Oh no, I can’t. I’ll get turned down.” Well, what the heck do you women think us guys have to go through everytime one of us approaches one of you? Men in bars, are at best, just like Wile E. Coyote. They run into that painting of the tunnel knowing full well, its just a painting on the side of a mountain, but the Roadrunner is in there and the Coyote is starving. It’s suicide, it really is, but the man does it anyway. What choice does he really have at that point?
Let’s say the man gets lucky enough to get a conversation with the woman. Let’s say, he gets her number. Let’s say, it’s not a bogus number. It will be tomorrow. When interviewed, the best answer a woman ever gave me as to why they give out the fake phone number is this: “I don’t want to create a scene.” Women would rather get a guy’s hopes up just to jerk him around later.
To get a bit personal for a moment, it really has been a long, long time since I’ve met a woman, in person, who I would actually want to get to know better. And only one woman, just one, has ever had the courage to actually say “No” to me. I’ve heard every excuse the English language allows. I’ve heard every reason to get blown off. But only one woman has actually said no. That rejection, I was able to get over really quickly. (A little part of me thinks she might be a man in disguise.) The rejection sucked. They all do. But the honesty cushioned the blow. There was no false sense of hope, there was no chance for optimistic thought.
The WhatIGotSoFar series on Women
APPLICATION FOR PERMISSION TO DATE MY DAUGHTER
NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement, job history, lineage, and current medical report from your doctor.
NAME:
DATE OF BIRTH:
HEIGHT: WEIGHT: IQ: GPA:
SIN # DRIVERS LICENSE #
BOY SCOUT RANK AND BADGES:
HOME ADDRESS:
CITY/PROVINCE:
POSTAL CODE:
Do you have parents? ___Yes ___No
Is one male and the other female? ___Yes ___No
If No, explain:
Number of years they have been married:
If less than your age, explain:
ACCESSORIES SECTION:
A. Do you own or have access to a van? __Yes __No
B. A truck with oversized tires? __Yes __No
C. A waterbed? __Yes __No
D. A pickup with a mattress in the back? __Yes __N0
E. A tattoo? __Yes __No
F. Do you have an earring, nose ring, pierced tongue, pierced cheek or a belly button ring? __Yes __No
(IF YOU ANSWERED ‘YES’ TO ANY OF THE ABOVE, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION AND LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. I SUGGEST RUNNING.)
ESSAY SECTION:
In 50 words or less, what does ‘LATE’ mean to you?
In 50 words or less, what does ‘DON’T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER’ mean to you?
In 50 words or less, what does ‘ABSTINENCE’ mean to you?
REFERENCES SECTION:
Church you attend:
How often you attend:
When would be the best time to interview your:
father?
mother?
pastor?
SHORT-ANSWER SECTION:
Answer by filling in the blank. Please answer freely, all answers are confidential.
A: If I were shot, the last place I would want to be shot would be:
B: If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my:
C: A woman’s place is in the:
D: The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is:
E. What do you want to do IF you grow up?
F. When I meet a girl, the thing I always notice about her first is:
F. What is the current going rate of a hotel room?
I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT, NATIVE AMERICAN ANTI TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE WATER TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS, AND HILLARY CLINTON KISS TORTURE.
Applicant’s Signature (that means sign your name, moron!)
Mother’s Signature
Father’s Signature
Pastor/Priest/Rabbi
State Representative/Congressman
Thank you for your interest, and it had better be genuine and non-sexual. Please allow four to six years for processing.
You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Please do not try to call or write (since you probably can’t, and it would cause you injury).
If your application is rejected, you will be notified by two gentleman wearing white ties carrying violin cases. (you might watch your back)
To prepare yourself, start studying Daddy’s Rules for Dating (below).
Parents’ Rules for Dating
Your parents’ rules for your boyfriend (or for you if you’re a guy) :
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peek at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them..
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a ‘Barrier method’ of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: ‘early.’
Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry..
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a sand dune near Kuwait. When the nerve agents effects starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside.. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.
Sincerely - Mom & Dad
I found this on Charles Adler’s Blog. The originating blog can be found here.
