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The Storm Trooper

5 Jun

The name speaks for itself. 61808

Yes, my date showed up in costume. Yeah. The. Big. White. Hard-cased. Suit. With helmet in hand (thank God).

Alan and I met online (I’ve really got to stop torturing myself and just find a man at the gas station or something), and immediately clicked. I was 30, he was 29 and in school at The University of Houston, getting his PhD in Political Science. A smartie!

[At this point in time, upon reading his profile, I didn’t get a vibe that he liked to dress in costume for first dates.]

Anyways, we had a lot in common and would talk on the phone for hours. We both liked the Houston Museum District/Hermann Park area, so we set up a date for an early dinner at a nearby Taco Shop and planned to head to Miller Outdoor Theatre for a concert afterwards.

Let me give you the stats for Alan. He is a 6’5″ male with broad shoulders…complete with a brillo pad of curly, brown hair and a large nose.

So, yeah. He showed up in costume and I didn’t run out the door. And no, I’m not on drugs. I hardly ever leave dates, no matter how bad they are. It’s the nice person in me. Unfortunately.

Anyways…after I got over my shock of him being dressed up and me being slightly embarrassed, we ordered dinner. I ordered a couple of tacos and a drink, and he ordered a burrito.

I think he knew that I wasn’t the woman for him and I definitely knew that he wasn’t the man for me, so we just made small talk. There weren’t any crazy awkward pauses which was good, and, I learned a new thing or two.

One Thing: Towel Day. Read about it here. There are no other words for it. But, he celebrates it and even dresses up for it. Yes, he wears a towel.

Two Thing: His perfect dream girl carries a sword and wears a short skirt and screams out “I’m (something that starts with the letter) Z!”

I guess the date wouldn’t have been so bad (completely), if he hadn’t started rolling up balls of foil (from his burrito) and throwing aiming for my cleavage V-neck shirt opening.

Yeah. That happened.

So, yeah…that’s the Storm Trooper. He was the first date I had in Houston when I moved down here.

Fun times. Fun times, indeed.

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“You Smell Yummy”

21 Sep

I had to post this.

I just couldn’t help myself.

First of all…can I just say, “W-T-F?”

I just read the weirdest online article from The Houston Chronicle’s Lifestyle [29-95] section.

The title, “Sniff out your soul mate at a Pheromones Party Oct. 5,” couldn’t have been said any better.

Dating is hard either way you look at it. There’s blind dating, online dating, meeting people by chance, working with someone, meeting said someone at a networking event, etc.

Apparently, now you can “sniff” people out.

Houston Social Source (HSS), where Houstonians connect with ‘amazing singles in Houston,’ states that they help cut out the matchmaking middleman.

On Friday, October 5th, Houstonians from all over, will meet at Nouveau Antique Art Bar, and not only cut out the matchmaking middleman, they will be able to ‘sniff out’ their possible new mates at a first-ever Pheromone Party in Houston.

So what’s a pheromone party? Apparently it’s trending in the NYC, and Los Angeles.

The parties require homework though. Participants have to sleep in the same t-shirt for three nights and store them in plastic bags in the freezer. These tees are then brought to the party (in the bag), where members of the opposite sex get to scratch and sniff and find love.

So now we’ve become [dog] hounds now.

I think the HSS owner is on crack…but I guess I can’t knock it until I’ve tried it.

I hate to break it to my readers…but this is one dating experience that I’m NOT trying. For those that are interested, you can find details here.

Tell me, LikeOmigod Readers…would YOU go to these lengths to meet someone?

Whack Job

18 Oct

How can someone who has so much in common with you be so wrong for you???

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 got married!

7 Jan

Kidding.

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! : )

“Hose”

17 Dec

Twitter.

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!

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