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Best. Break-up Letter. Ever.

6 Jun

Creative Break-up LetterI recently saw an article in Yahoo! Shine and had to repost it and ask the question:

“What is the worst break-up letter you’ve ever received and/or sent?”

This particular letter is from a woman who writes to her boyfriend and tells him how to find his personal belongings after finding a message from another girl, on his Facebook page.


Personally, I’ve sent letters to my exes that would make mothers wonder if they were raising their sons right, but never anything like this. When my ex (in 2008), stole my heart and beat the living crap out of it…I did sell his stuff on Craigslist. And, I did drop off a letter to his mother. She was the best way I could reach him, I promise.

Tell me, what’s the worst break-up letter you’ve received OR, the best break-up letter you’ve sent?



28 Sep

Just got an email from a guy (Snowboardkidd) on OKCupid, whom I haven’t even spoken 10 words to yet, and he’s already asking me if we can be “friends with benefits.”

Really dude? Does that line really work for you?

First-ever message.


My response: “Howdy.”

Second Message.

“How are you today?”

My response: “Great. How are you?”

Third message.

“Better, now!!!! :-)”

Fourth Message.

“What are you doing?”

My response: “Working. You?”

Fifth Message.

“I am off and bored. 😦 What do you do for a living?”

My response: “I’m a graphic designer for a hospital.”

Sixth Message. (Two days later.)

“I truly am not ready just yet for a “relationship.” Would you consider being friends with benefits with me until I got my head and heart cleared up?”

My response: blank stare

“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?

It’s Complicated

3 Jun

When I used to cry my eyes out over some douchebag that hurt me back in the day…I was secretly wishing that I’d become this cold-hearted bitch that could set aside my emotions and just sex it up, having fun. My friends were doing it…why couldn’t I? Why the hell did I have to wear my heart on my sleeve every date, every kiss, every relationship?


I haven’t written in awhile. I think it’s been almost a year or two since I wrote anything of actual story-telling awesomeness.

I took the above time to delete every dating profile I’ve ever been on and I also took a 1-2 year hiatus from dating.

Men. Stoopid, stoopid men.

I think I actually hated them. I literally despised men. And not in a I’m-going-to-go-have-sex-with-women-now way…but in the sense that I blamed EVERYTHING on men.

If I was driving and someone pulled out in front of me while I was going my usual speed of 80…I probably said something along the lines of “…it’s probably a man.” Listening to Roula & Ryan’s Roses on KRBE was like listening to my life back in Dallas. Dealing with stupid men.

Not to mention that during that time, I stopped trusting people. I’ve always been a very trusting person, but as I looked back at past relationships, past friendships…I realized that the damage had been done and I just wasn’t the same. I wasn’t that same girl who immediately became friends so easily…who trusted people so easily.

Now there’s a shell. And a hard one at that…covering my heart. It’s weird what a move 250 miles away will do to a person.


Over the past few weeks, I’ve been seeing this guy we’ll call Mr. Music. It’s strictly casual. I don’t think I could even offer much more than that right now. I’m still working on myself and frankly, the cold-hearted bitch has appeared and reared its ugly head.

I can now set aside my emotions and just live on the wild side. And I’m enjoying it damnit!

Yes, while it would be cool and nice to have what my parents have, what my coworkers have, what my friends have…I’m just not there. I’m 30 and flirty and I’m going to enjoy it for nine more days. Why nine days? I turn 31 on June 12.

Maybe I’ll be looking for love by then.


*To all my friends who just gasped, don’t hate. A girl has needs.


17 Dec


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.



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


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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