Just went out on a date with a guy who told me: his life story, why he can’t get a job (he’s trying for law enforcement) and why he can’t get laid OR keep a girlfriend.

To top it off…he asked me if i shaved.

Yes…”shaved.”

Down there.

WTF?

Maybe I should really think about getting a handgun license.

Sigh.

I am not any closer to finding the man of my dreams, nor do I care to be closer to finding him…but here’s to a different set of dates, new adventures, and new loves in my 30s.

It can only get better right? *laughs a wicked laugh*

Happy Birthday to me. =)

Well for starters…”here I am” and “no.”

Well sorta no.

Anyways…

Instead of me apologizing for not writing and telling you that “life” has gotten in the way–let me tell you the truth.

Dating sucks. (It just does.)
Rejection blows. (Always.)
and Love hurts. (Sometimes.)

And after you’ve dated #487,532,691 (please note the exaggeration), and ’he’ turns into douchebag #487,532,691…it’s depleting.

“It” is the dating.
“It” is finding said dude and talking with him on the phone for minutes/hours/days/weeks/months.
“It” is the first date, the first kiss, the second date and then the second kiss and so on.
“It” is the feeling in your stomach that makes you think, “maybe he’s the one.”
“It” is also the pit feeling in your stomach when you realize said dude is NOT the one.

And “It” is fucking exhausting.

So the time I take in between these blogs is me resting, is me taking notes and adding to the “what not to date” column, and is me putting my heart back together.

Thing is…if you’re a close friend or you just “know me” you know that my heart was broken in 2008. My ex stole a piece of me and shattered my heart into dozens of pieces and to be honest, I don’t even know where some of the shards landed. And as much as I keep saying “I’m okay” or “I’m ready to date again,” I’m lying. I’ve been lying. Lying to myself. And lying to the poor bastards who have been trying to date me.

Going back through all of my blogs… maybe it was me. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I was the reason the date didn’t end well. Maybe I was the reason why there was no second date.

Maybe I was the reason MovieFaceMark jizzed in his pants at the movie.

[crickets chirping]

Okay…maybe not. But what if I was the one who sabotaged all of it because I wasn’t ready?

When I buy an unplugged album, I buy it knowing that it won’t sound like the cool version on the radio that I sing to at the top of my lungs in the shower and in the car. I buy it knowing that I will hear the blood, sweat and tears that made up the album. I buy it knowing that if it’s a happy song, I’ll be able to tell that the artist had a smile on his or her face when they sang it. I’ll also know that if it’s a sad song, I’ll be able to hear the crack in their throat, before the tears even hit their cheeks.

LikeOmigod Unplugged is just that. In 2008 I gave my  heart away to someone whom I thought loved me, and truth is…I never really got it back.

Experts say that you’re supposed to love yourself before anyone else can and they’re right. I don’t love myself. Not right now anyways. Right now…I’m a work in progress.

Most of you know that back in March I moved from Dallas to Houston. It was a quick decision and although my situation has put a kink in my social life, it’s the best decision I’ve made in my twenties.

My thirties are coming up in just a couple of weeks and I’ve made so many improvements on myself, my outlook and what I want. When I turn 30, I look forward to showing the world what I’ve accomplished, what I will accomplish and what I can accomplish in the future.

I’m looking forward to falling in love with myself again and opening my heart up to be able to love someone else. Until then, I just don’t care. I don’t want to fall in love, I don’t want to date, I don’t want to hurt. I just want to pick up the pieces and put them all back together.

Humpty Dumpty did it, why can’t I?

Going forward…

I’ve pretty much closed down all of my dating accounts – some of them I haven’t even visited because frankly, I forgot the password and don’t even want to spend the time trying to figure it out.

While I’ve clearly stated I don’t care to date anyone (at the moment), it hasn’t stopped guys from asking me out and/or guys being douchebags. It also hasn’t stopped the ridiculous emails that I get on a daily basis and the crazies that keep finding me.

I swear.

But I’m keeping an open mind…because it’s true, “you just never know.”

And you don’t.

Check back soon for a recap of the “4.5 dates,” and the latest stories…”The Racist” and “The Human Trafficker.”

Yeah.  

Don’t worry (guys-out-there-who-are interested-in-my-awesomeness), I didn’t get married. But some guy apparently thinks we did. ;o)

Look at what I found in my POF inbox this morning. I’m not sure how the hell to respond. What do you think?

“After a rigorously brief overview of your profile, I wanted to let you know I have already married and divorced you in my mind.

Thanks for all the wonderful imaginary memories… you will always have a special place in my heart.

your ex-hubby,

Abacus41

PS

You can keep the beach house in Florida as long as I can have the dog and my DVD’s back.”

Um yeah. I’m not sure how to take this. Did he just give me a compliment? Did he just tell me I’m the scum of the earth? Comments anyone?

Like me on facebook! You know you want to! : )

Personally I’m not a fan. Not the actual Twitter part, but the tweeting. The tweeting every two seconds. It’s so annoying and it’s so time consuming!

*I wish you could see my annoyed face*

I don’t mind if other people do it…in fact, reading what other people have to say about their personal lives is actually quite fascinating. For me however, I can’t stand getting on Twitter and having to update my readers with my whereabouts or thoughts every 2 minutes. And besides, I actually lead a pretty boring life. I’m serious.

So instead of creating a Twitter account for myself…I created one for this blog and so far it’s worked out great. I can get by with only one tweet a day or a few tweets a week; sometimes I tweet multiple times, but that’s on the rare occasion that I actually have a blog for all of you.

Another thing I’m annoyed by? Spammers. Spammers on Twitter. I love ‘trying’ to build a fan base, because you know, it would be great to get a lot of people interested in what I have to say…so much that I could write a book about my dates…and people would still be willing to read about them. But spammers…these are the ones where there’s a justifiable name, but porn-like pictures and a porn-dedicated description. Or it’s some chick or some dude with a random name and random picture with a crappy porn-dedicated description. ugh.

Seriously? I’m just trying to tell people my version of the dating game…I don’t need to know about “what toy/touch/lick/whatever will wow him.” I’ve got my own skillz. SMDH

So the point of this blog and the point of my annoyance with spammers is that while I was trying to build up my fan base this morning, some odd, Twitter tweeter named StockingsLove tried to “follow me.”

First of all…when you’ve gone on a FIRST date with a dude who asked you if you wore stockings, liked wearing stockings and then told you what he’d like to do to you in stockings…you know…one might tend to NOT want to be a part of StockingsLove.

Um yeah.

This was a date that I had right out of college when I was still living with my parents and trying to find a job at the age of 22. I had met him at a party through some friends and we decided on Rice Village for our date.

He was a very handsome guy, professional, had a job, a car, came from a good family. Etc, etc.

Yeah…so not even 30 minutes had passed into our date and he was asking me about stockings.

Yep. Stockings. Pantyhose. Leggings. Whatever-you-want-to-call-it. I prefer Sheer-Death-Grip-Leggings. Especially if you’re trying to hold “everything” in.

You may also be wondering right now, how I can remember a date from my early 20s, but this date is just one of those you can’t forget. Trust me.

Him: “So crazy question. Do you own and wear stockings?”
Me: “Stockings? Like-suck-all-the-life-out-of-you-and-keep-me-hot-all-day-in-100-degree-weather stockings?”
Him: “Yeah…those (with a creepy chuckle). Pantyhose. Do you?”
Me: “I own some, but I don’t wear them every day. They’re a pain. Why?”
Him: “I love girls who wear them. You’re pretty leggy…I bet your long legs would look hot in them.”
Me: [blinking]
Him: “So have you ever, you know, played with them?”
Me: “What?”
Him: “Played with them. Worn them while having sex?”
Me: [silence]
Me: “Don’t believe I have. It’s not really my thing.”
Him: “I could eat you right now.”
Me: [silence]
Him: “Wanna know my ultimate fantasy?”

And before I could say “no” to his ultimate fantasy description, his words had me shaking in my bar stool.

I think you all know where this is going. And I also think you don’t need to hear every last R-rated detail of his fantasy…so PG-speaking…he basically told me that he wanted me to wear pantyhose with nothing else on and sit on his face.

[silence]

Yep.

So…can we all see WHY I would NEVER want StockingsLove to follow me?

Weirdos.

Tip #867364758…guys if you want to make it to at least a second date…don’t scare her off with crazy fetish talk. Keep that shit to yourself or tell her on the 36th date, or something. [looking nervously to the side]

 Just a quick disclaimer: This blog is not saying that I would never try the pantyhose freakyness (because I usually try everything at least once), but mentioning it on a first date guys? Really?

I guess he wasn’t “the one” for me. You think?

Just a slight detour of the 4.5 dates series. Regular programming will be back shortly, unless of course I have another crazy story in between. HA!

My greatest fear is not spiders or snakes, or not being successful. It’s: never knowing what it feels like to have a “love of my life.”

I hope that I am just as lucky as her one day.

Until then…

R.I.P. to my uncle, Bill Spannagel.

ROBBIE
We met on: POF
Best quality: our similarities

Robbie was different. 

I had hid my profile on POF for awhile after taking a break from the “other” losers that I had found on there. When I decided to randomly log on one day, I saw him, read his profile, liked him immediately and scribbled his profile name on a piece of paper. I was in a hurry and couldn’t write what I wanted to, so I planned to write him later that night. Yeah, I thought he was THAT cool.

That night suddenly became a week and then two weeks and I still hadn’t written him. I decided it was a lost cause when I couldn’t find my scribbled notes.

But the next day when I logged on, who had written me? None other than Robbie. And you know how girls are with what we think are signs. I was smitten because it had to be fate, right? It didn’t hurt that we had EVERYTHING in common either. I couldn’t help but think, “finally!” 

We gradually moved from one media outlet to the other; first yahoo emails, then text messages and finally phone calls. We didn’t talk every night, but we spoke pretty regularly. He also called when he said he would, which was “awesome” in my book.

Did I mention that all of this talking/texting/emailing went on for LITERALLY two and a half months before we even met each other?

He was a film editor at some uptown company and created commercials for Republican lobbyists on the East Coast. In other words, he worked long hours and every weekend until November 2^nd. This also meant keeping our internet-born relationship behind the computer, you know, until he had time.

I was flexible. I was working for a company doing freelance and working my own hours. It wasn’t like I had any other prospects. Well, I had the weed smoker and the non-conversationalist.

At first I was okay with the not-meeting yet. I thought…wow; he actually wants to get to know me before meeting me. And I really liked the fact that he actually put thought into what he had to say. We all know I’m Chatty Kathy and Wordy Wanda, but so was he. He’d write me 3-page letters, or spend all day texting me. I thought it was kind of cool.

I also thought it was perfect we hadn’t met yet, because I’d have the chance to lose a little bit of that medical problem weight and get my life together. 

But my friends talked some sense into me and told me that I was only hurting myself by prolonging this meeting of ours. And they were right.

Our plan was to meet after the November 2^nd Elections—when he’d also be free from on-call work and be able to meet up for drinks and dinner. With all of the talking we had done, we literally were conversations away from exchanging PIN numbers. I felt as if I had known him for years with all the information that I knew.

I had spent all this time falling for the guy behind the computer; my friends were right to tell me to speed up the process. In the end, he was going to either like me or not…so why not get it over with? Why fall for a guy without knowing if he’s a douchebag or not? I love my friends…they’ve seen me in pain before. I appreciated their honesty and for once…I actually followed their advice. 

I met him three weeks before the elections and guess what? He turned out to be a douchebag. But I like my friend Niki’s version better. She saved me from falling in love with a “douche muffin.”

1)      First off, Robbie was born Robert and he was considered a third, or a fourth or some ridiculous number after his grandfather’s father’s, father’s father. In college, he was Rob to all of his buddies. In his adult life, he thought it would be cool to become Robbie. 

Robbie? Really? Are you f-ing kidding me? What are you? A third grader?

2)      When we set up the date, he asked me where I’d like to go and since I live in such a family-oriented area where everything closes at 10 p.m., I told him to come up with the date plan. His idea? He suggested a cool, quaint pub in downtown Plano. I was game…but I wasn’t game on driving in Plano. The last time I did that…I got a speeding ticket and I swear to you the cop jumped out of a manhole cover to get me…so; I decided to drive to his house, so he could drive me there.

Don’t look at me like that…guys used to pick up women on first dates all the time. At least he doesn’t know where I live.

Anyways…so I get to his house and let me give you some background information on how we planned to meet. When we were talking and texting and emailing, I told him I always wanted him to be honest with me.

For instance, if he wasn’t attracted to me, I wanted him to say it and not just play man games. If we hit it off, yet at some point, he decided he didn’t like me anymore, I told him I wanted him to tell me, so he wouldn’t be wasting my time (or vice versa) and also because I didn’t want to be cheated on again. I told him that if another guy cheated on me, I might go off the deep end and carve animal shapes into his eyebrows. Can you believe he still wanted to go out with me?

Um, by the way…totally kidding about that last part.

On our date night, I told him that if he didn’t like what he saw to tell me to just go back home. He said okay. Knowing that I had told him my best physical feature was my lips, he decided to make up the plan that we should just kiss before our actual date—to see if there was a spark. I was actually quite okay with that. I am, if I do say so myself, a talented kisser and I agreed that it was a great idea—I needed to see if he had skillz. I can’t date an amateur. That’s just no bueno.

So I get to his house, I step out of the car, he sees me, he gives me a hug and asks if I find him attractive. To be honest, his pictures made him out to be bulkier and a little taller, possibly a little bigger. More…bear huggier. He was a slender guy—I’m a tall girl…I like bigger guys. But he was cute. I told him I liked what I saw and asked him the same thing. He replied that he was ready to kiss me.

Fast little booger.

I guess he liked the way I looked—and so we kissed. He grabbed the side of my face and put his other hand around my neck and moved in for the kill…only to move around like a sloppy fish…or like someone doing the electric head slide! I swear to you he moved around so much, I had to do neck exercises immediately after. Okay…maybe not neck exercises…but you get the picture. When we broke away, he asked me how it was and I told him that we should just be friends. When I saw his expression and his eyes fall, I said, “just kidding.”

In a way though, I was sort of serious. It was one of those kisses where you have to wipe slobber off the side of your mouth because ol’ dude can’t seem to keep it in his.

3)      So we get to the pub, he gets his beer, I get my cider and we’re talking and talking and talking. We talked for hours. At one point, we started talking about our houses and he was telling me about how he and his roommate had been renovating his house. Of all the kajillion times he and I had talked about our houses, he never mentioned having a roommate. I had no problem with him having a roommate…lord knows, I could think of extra ways to spend the rent money if I had one. But because he was so quick to change the subject after he said anything, I decided to keep asking questions.

How long have you had a roommate? Is your roomie an old buddy from college? What’s his name?

I just assumed it was a guy. It was not.

Him: “Actually, my roommate is female. Does that bother you?”
Me: “No. As long as you’re not having sex with her.”
Him: “See the thing is…

Really? Starting off with “see the thing is” is never a good sign.

Him: “See the thing is…she’s actually my ex. We were together for three years and she’s now my best friend. We’re really close. I’m actually good friends with all my exes.”

My thoughts: “I’ll bet you are.”

Me: “Why did you two break up?”
Him: “We were better as friends. There was no romantic spark in the relationship anymore. Does this bother you…having my ex as my roommate?”
Me: “No, not at all.” 

I lied. 

Could he have not told me this while we were speaking on the phone or talking through emails? He could have saved me a lot of time…or hell, some of my Burt’s Bee’s chapstick from wearing it off with that horrible f-ing kiss.

Eh. 

When he said he had to work the next morning, I was glad and suggested we leave.

4)      When we got back to his house, we sat in his car doing the whole fumble for the keys, the door, and the awkward stares. He asked me why I wasn’t making a move and I told him I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to. And so he leaned over his console and told me to try him out—fishy lips and all.

Eh.

So I made the executive decision: “What the heck…why not?” My boy pickin’s were slim. He wanted to kiss me and this might have been the last time I’d get to make out with anyone for awhile. I girl has needs you know.

And besides, I wouldn’t have to wash my face when I got home…his slobber would do the trick.

Kidding.

So; we made out like two horndog teenagers in his car for…about an hour. Yep…boys and girls…that same sloppy makeout kiss from before.

Eh.

5)      But not so fast my friends…his bad kissing didn’t make him a douche. His personality, after said date, was what made him the douche muffin.

After the date and after suggesting we not only make out in his car, but in the backseat of my car too…um yeah… the next day rolled around and he called suggesting we go out on another date. 

When I got home that night, I made a pros and cons list on him and it wasn’t just the bad kissing that turned me off. Deep down, I decided that there would NOT be a second date…but if I was wishy washy…here were a few cons that pissed me off enough to just say no.

1)      Him asking me to come into his house (with his ex) and see his bedroom (while his ex was sleeping in the Master) did the trick. And it wasn’t just once, it was about 9 times. I mean, maybe he thought I was drunk enough. I was pretty tipsy—I had three drinks. Three ciders in tall glasses. I was “good to go.” Thankfully though, my head was still screwed on straight. 

2)      He said he leaned to the left…but really enjoyed making political commercials for Republicans. Yeah.

3)      There were some days and a couple of weekends he wouldn’t call or email and he said it was because he was just too busy. Riiiggghhhttt. So you really like me and you keep telling me you see us in a longterm relationship, yet you don’t have time to spend all of 3 seconds and send me a text message that says “hi?” Let’s see. I call BS on that one. You have time to text me at a red light, when you’re taking a piss, when you’re heating up your lunch, just before you go to sleep, etc. I wasn’t born yesterday.

The next few days flew by and he sent me a dozen messages or so saying that he really enjoyed himself and that he was glad he finally got to meet me, that I was really pretty, that we needed to hang out again, that I was indeed, a great kisser and that he couldn’t wait to slobber…I mean kiss me again. And then the messages and calls stopped.

A week later, I get this text message from him that says, “Hey. How are you? So I’ve been thinking about us over the past week and I just don’t think there’s a romantic connection between us. I think we should just be friends.”

You think? I loved how it took him a whole week to find another chick to slobber on.

Douche Muffin. Enough said.

1)      Crazy
2)      Full of weirdos
3)      Funny stories to keep all of YOU entertained
4)      and ONLY first date qualifiers.

I swear I’m only 2.5 dates away from becoming a nun. A gay nun.

Sigh.

Can I just say that writing about 4.5 dates is hard work? I’ve been working on this post for about a week and a half now and frankly, the finished product would take you an entire day to finish.

We all know I’m Wordy Wanda. I kid you not, if I published “Thith Thucks” right now, you’d be reading a very lengthy document equivalent to 12 pages of Word. 

But thanks to my amazingly smart friend Jamie, she suggested I break up the stories, allowing you my friends, time to breathe in between dates.

So, let’s get this party started. Let me give you a short run down of what will be published tonight, tomorrow, Thursday and Friday.

Blog: I see London, I see France
Date #1: Grant – The Weed Smoker
Highlight of the Date: getting to see the Dallas Stars practice, and getting free tickets with AWESOME seats, for two games!!!

Blog: The Backseat of My Car
Date #2: Robbie – The Douche Muffin
Highlight of the Date: when I told him we should just be friends after he kissed me. 

Blog: I’m a Boss
Date #3: Nick – The Non Conversationalist
Highlight of the Date: beating him 2 out of 3 at bowling. 

Blog: Thith Thucks 
Date #4: Dusty – The Dumbass
Highlight of the Date: when his drunkenness stupor and lisp collided together in conversation. 

Blog: The Government’s Calling
Date #0.5: Ron – Jersey Shore
Highlight of the Date: watching him flip hair when he said he had once been a hair dresser in NY.

[I wish you all could see my non-excited face.] 

GRANT
We met on: POF
Best quality: his red locks

So Grant messaged me first and was excited that I was such a big hockey fan. Who doesn’t like hockey? Anyways, he chatted me up, we had a lot in common, and a date was made. Besides, I was intrigued by his red hair and red beard. Ooh la la!

Our first date? A Dallas Stars practice session with the chance at getting free tickets. I was all about that. Lord knows I can’t afford Dallas Stars tickets in this economy!

So the day of…it’s a Saturday and it’s pouring outside. I mean, the sky is dark, the thunder clouds are rolling in, the lightning is lighting up the sky, the rain is coming down like ocean waves pounding a jetty—I could hardly see through my windshield. All of a sudden, I get a phone call from him saying that he’s running a little late, that he had been pulled over on 75 for speeding.

My thoughts? “Sweet. [They're] finally sticking it to someone else for a change.”

I said no problem and told him to take his time. There was no point in him rushing. By the time I got there, hardly anyone was there, and I was able to jump in line several (actually 5) times and get multiple tickets…which by the way, worked out great for a girl’s night I had later on the next week.

When he DID get there… that’s when the real fun started.

1)      He was shorter than me. His profile said he was 6′. WTF-ever. He was a short 5’11″. I had to slouch next to him to feel comfortable.

2)      He was sweating bullets. It would have been fine if we were playing a game of tennis, but the AAC was ridiculously cold, and I know I don’t make men THAT nervous. Turns out he had like 5 shirt layers on. WTF?

3)      When we sat down…he was all sorts of awkward. I’d be paying attention to the practice and out of the corner of my eye I’d see him staring at me. When I’d look over…he’d quickly turn his head like he hadn’t been looking at me in the first place.

Weirdo.

4)      He wasn’t talkative in person. We were plenty talkative on the phone, but on that day, the only questions he could muster up were “What’s your favorite color?” and “What’s your favorite season?” Seriously dude? Then out of nowhere, he asked me what my deal breakers were when dating someone.

Uh….

I’ve honestly never really thought about “a” deal breaker at the start of dating someone, but I said that if a guy ever cheated on me, his ass would be gone. I had already been there and done that. Haven’t we all?

Him: “Cool.”

So then he starts asking me other questions…questions like: where I grew up, what I do for fun, what kind of music I like—all questions he already had the answer to being that it was clearly in my profile. And then he threw out the question, “what are three things not many people know about you.”

What? Three things not many people know about me? Holy shiznit…he actually put some thought into this.

I replied with my answers and then asked him the same. To which he replied, “Are you sure you want to know that much about me?”

[Silence]

And it was then my date became weird.

Him: “Most people don’t know that I smoke weed. I actually smoke a lot. Like five times a day.”

[Silence]

Him: “Have you ever smoked?”
Me: “No.”
Him: “Would you be willing to try it?”
Me: “No.”
Him: “Are you okay with someone who does smoke?”
Me: “Hey…whatever makes you happy!”

Here was this young, professional guy who worked for a well-known and prestigious organization in the City of McKinney and here he was smoking weed five times a day. Classy.

I sat there staring ahead. This date was a done deal. Finito. Finished. Over. And he knew it.

Once we both knew the date was over, we started talking like we had been buddies for life. We were talking about our favorite places in DFW, our favorite restaurants, etc. We even reminisced about our first ever concerts and our last. He was huge into punk rock and when I told him I liked Rage Against the Machine, he went nuts. He told me he was such a big fan that he had posters of them in his bedroom, had traveled to different cities for their concerts and even had a matching undershirt and underpants set to match.

Yeah. I know. I couldn’t believe it either. I told him I didn’t believe him and so he showed me.

Yep.

He stood up, unzipped his pants and showed me his underwear.

His Rage Against the Machine underwear.

Yep. He even stripped his 5-layers to show me his undershirt too.

Do you hear that? The birds tweeting in the silence? I do.

Maybe the highlight of the date was that although I saw his package, at least I didn’t see red pubes???

Ah…and just for the record…three things you probably didn’t know about me:

1)      I once climbed the Sam Houston statue in Huntsville, TX, along I-45.
2)      I once sang the national anthem with two other girls at an Astro’s game.
3)      I didn’t get my first kiss until the age of 17.

I’m signing over my first born here…

“I, LikeOmigod, will try my best to write about those 4.5 dates when I get back from the Thanksgiving holiday.”

Since Thanksgiving is a time where many give thanks to what they are blessed with in life, I’ve decided to return the favor, LikeOmigod style.

So…what is LikeOmigod thankful for?

1. I am thankful…that I am an independent woman who doesn’t necessarily need a man to be happy.

2. I am thankful…that I have wonderful friends and family who care about me enough to call and make sure I get home from all of the crazy disastrous dates that I have.

3. I am thankful…that I have friends who will come over for “girl night” with wine and sweets to help me get over, yet a[nother] crappy douchebag.

4. I am thankful…that I have a big heart–one that, although keeps getting depleted by all the douchebags, one that keeps refilling itself in hopes there is real love out there.

5. I am thankful…that I have the sense for not bringing a guy like MovieFaceMark to meet my parents.

6. I am thankful…that I have been on all of these crazy-ass dates because when I eventually meet “the one” he’ll be awesome times bajillion and I’ll know when to appreciate it.

7. I am thankful…that I have a personal trainer who will help me lose weight after I pile on the pounds during Thanksgiving feasts. I had a talk with my fat cells and we’ve agreed to make all the desserts stay in my ass, while the rest of me gets skinnier. : )

8. I am thankful…that I have loads of charm to keep the dates AND the stories coming for all of you nuts out there who enjoy reading this stuff! ; )

9. I am thankful…that there are lots of men on this earth to date and make memories with (or stories).

and last but not least…

10. I am thankful…for those who have been in life, who are in my life, who will be in my life in the future…the ones who have helped shape me into the sweet, smart, funny, awesome woman that I am; the ones who encourage me, inspire me and motivate me to become a better person; and even the ones who encourage me to not give up hope on love.

I love you all. <3

Happy Thanksgiving! Be safe and eats lots of turkey!

So very soon…and I mean in a couple of days…I will be writing about the BEST 4.5 dates I’ve had over the period of three weeks and let me tell you…these are some GREAT stories. Look for “This Thucks!” on Friday. =)

Until then…let me just vent for a few seconds.

Seriously America…WTF?

The following dude winked at me and when I went to his profile…this is what I found:

IM not A REGULAR GUY (most cheat regardless of relationship and i can proudly say i never have), but I’M LOOKING FOR A REGULAR GIRL. EVERYBODY HAS A PERFECT MATCH SOMEWHERE or not. I THINK WE WILL BOTH KNOW IF WE HAVE SOMETHING or not. I JUST NEED SOMEONE TO HAVE FUN WITH or not. EJOY LIFE WITH. SOMEONE INTELIGENT ENOUPH TO HOLD A FRUITFUL CONVERSATION WITH or not. WHO KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH A MAN, A PERSON WITH AN OPEN MIND. AS FOR ME IM ARTISTICLY INTELLIGENT (and his profile says he makes $150k plus…HA!), so i see through bull fast and i am not up for any kind of games im too busy and i dont have time for it, BUT IM A FUN GUY TO KNOW MOST PEOPLE WHO MEET ME BECOME MY FRIEND INSTANTLY. I LOVE TO DO THINGS ESPECIALLY MAKE MONEY. IM A GENTLEMEN TO THE LADIES I LIKE TO PLAY THE PROPER ROLE AND CONDUCT THINGS IN A CIVILIZED MANOR. ALTHOUGH THERE ISN’T MUCH ELSE PROPER ABOUT ME BESIDES THIS. (DISCLAIMER) ultimately i am only trying to get (sum) I mean what else is there really, im sure you want companionship and all that mushy stuff and i respect that so why should i lie cause this is brutally true for any other guy here as well im just telling it how it is. I know it sounds bad but the truth is always hard to swallow. i dont even know you so how could i really want anything else from you. What you see is what you get. i offer No games cause there is no time so what happens all depends on you. we could fall in love, fall for each other or simply fall apart. but first things first, physical attraction thats a guys cue in every first encounter but dont blame me or my honesty, its just the way these things work. lastly, pardon my bluntness ladies but I’m looking for real wemon. not a waste of time, life is too short, id rather you know me for what i am then us confusing each other into wasting our lives trying to figure out we dont match. or that we are close to perfect. thanks;)

For Fun
AL PACHINO, ROBERT DENIERO, AND TOM CRUIZE ARE AMONGST MY FAVORITE ACTORS. IM INTO ALMOST ALL MUSIC GENRAS except RAP, wait, does it matter what i listen to i mean do i really have to listen to country music to date u?

My Job
there are mostly white wemon on this site and they all are looking for white men and i dont fall within that catagory so i feel no need to say anything. i just thought i would inform you of how pittyful it is before i canceled my involvement so long.

(and how is this related to a job?)

My Ethnicity
I WAS BORN IN FLINT MICHIGAN, IM AN AMERICAN FREE BIRD MY FAMILY IS VERY RELIGIOUS BUT WITH THE NEW MENTALITY OF RELIGION. THERE ARE NO GUIDE LINES IN RELATIONSHIPS MARRIAGE EXCEPT THAT THE OTHER PERSON LOVES YOU

My Religion
I’M FULLY AWARE THAT IT COULD ALL JUST BE A REALLY GOOD IDEA BUT I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE THERE IS HOPE FOR US IN THE END.

My Education
K-D STUDIO’S ACTORS CONSERVATORY OF THE SOUTHWEST, BROOKHAVEN SCHOOL OF THE ARTS

(He’s a friggin’ actor????) His screenname is, afterall, DALLASCELLEBRITI.

Favorite Hot Spots
someplace she would feel confortable, wemon are different some like this others hate it. therefore i treat wemon diffrently. it all depends on who she really is.

Favorite Things
I like to have fun if that means anything, and im not exactly referring to sex for you overzealous wemon. but i do consider it fun like everyone else of course.

Last Read
i recently read the great gatsby on ipod, well it was an audio book actually. i also read lots of dumb mags like GQ with metrosexuals and homosexuals posing italian suits on every other page

So there. Just posting his profile was my vent for the day. How could he remotely think that I’d ever be interested in him? If I was a professor at either of those schools, I’d fail him purely for making the school look bad. That’s just my “wemonly” opinion.

Where in the hell do these dumbass guys come from?