Tag Archives: internet dating

They’re Gonna Hang My Cock from the Rafters

22 May

I can’t be bothered to go on a fucking date anymore.  The whole thing has just become so joyless.  And  it’s not them; it’s me.  There are plenty of nice attractive girls.  I get unsolicited OKCupid messages from them.  It would be so easy.  But… fuck it.

There was an old episode of STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION.  Or maybe DEEP SPACE NINE.  What happens is, the Klingon messiah from thousands of years ago comes back to life.  Kahless.  And there is debate among the Klingon community as to whether it’s the real guy, or merely a clone.  As one would expect with Klingons, words are not enough to settle the dispute and there has to be a ritualistic duel of champions with crazy crescent shaped two handed knives.

So the pro-Kahless and anti-Kahless guy are having this grim battle with the knives; sour, determined faces, cunning and strategy; and Kahless steps in and is like- “what the fuck is the matter with you guys? You are taking no JOY in this! We’re Klingons! We fucking LOVE fighting– you guys look miserable!”

That’s what internet dating feels like to me now.  And dating at large. I love dating; I love women, but it’s become just this rote, mercenary thing, you know.  It’s become an assembly line.  Find girl.  Message girl two to three sentences exactly– longer messages and shorter messages get far fewer responses. Fifty per cent of the time they respond, almost always continuing whatever joke I made.  I “cut the thread,” say some other funny thing that is unrelated, and ask for the number. Fifty per cent of the time I get it. Ten minute phone call on the drive home a day later.  Propose a specific plan. A specific bar on a specific night, and the bar is a place close to my house that serves artisanal beers with undetectably but shockingly high alcohol content; three of them will get any girl into the fuck zone.  Go for the makeout on the second cigarette break.  Walk her to her car and ask her to drive me home.  Ask her to come inside.  Get her inside, more making out, more booze, get her into bed, eat her pussy till she gets horny enough to let me put it in unprotected.  She’ll ask if I have condoms; of course I don’t. Continue reading

OKCupid: No Men No Men No Men

17 May

I keep looking at this one polyamorous chick’s profile.  There are a lot of them on here.  Most of them are noise, as far as a guy is concerned, because most of them are “F/bi/available” but have the NO MEN NO MEN NO MEN disclaimer that every bi girl has, or the friendlier “I do like guys, but sorry fellas, I have a harder time meeting women in real life so I’m on here looking for girls only.” Looking for girls to bring back to their strong jawed bartender boyfriend who sings about communism in a band.

And almost all “bi” women are like this, poly or otherwise. NO MEN NO MEN NO MEN. The bitch of it is that because it’s a woman looking for women, and thus having to do some actual work, these profiles are the best ones. You get to see a side of them that’s actually trying to present their lives as something you’d actually want to be a part of.  Of course these parts are walled in by giant blocks of NO MEN NO MEN NO MEN type ward-you-off stuff in all caps.

Continue reading

Diary: Angry at OkCupid Profiles

28 Apr

God dammit— why are all you girls so fucking boring. This is how old I am, this is where I’m from, this is what I do– I love my job!  I love my family and friends!  Go fuck your family and friends.  I hope your family and friends are all on a bus and it explodes in a fiery wreck.  I hope your job fires you and you are forced to suck dick under an underpass. You will wish your family and friends were there to help you out, but they will have died in a fiery wreck.

Just— you fucking chickenshits have to start showing a little actual personality.  Who fucking cares what people think of you— you’re on the goddamn internet. Nobody cares.

Or— let’s just… let’s just assume you love your family and friends.  From now on, let’s only make it a point to mention them if you do not love your family and friends.  Everybody loves their family and friends, even me.  Let’s just say something about your family if they beat and molested you; that’s the only thing that could possibly make them interesting. Even I love my family, although I would gladly trade them in for a family with a shitload of money, and my friends I end up fully replacing about every year and a half.

Old News: Match.com Screening Sex Offenders

20 Apr

Originally Posted September 1, 2011:

So a woman went on a date off match.com; the guy was a convicted sexual batterer, and he went ahead and sexually battered her, too.  So she sued them and now match.com is screening out sex offenders.

Or trying to.  Wonder what the mechanics are here.  Do you now have to give them your social security number?  Is it men only?  I mean, it’s a different beast than OKC because match.com is already taking your credit card number, so, they’re already in the business of identifying you as an individual human being.  As far as OKC goes you could actually be a sentient jellyfish that got a hold of a keyboard somehow.  That’s kind of the beauty of it.

By the way, match.com is also in the business of taking your credit card number and charging sixty nine ninety nine to it every three months, forever.  It’s genius how they do this—every three months that sixty nine ninety nine shows up on your balance.  You see it and think “what the fuck? I haven’t signed on to that shit in three years.”  You call– you make a series of calls, emails,  match tells you to call the bank, the bank tells you to call a different division of the bank, the different division of the bank tells you to call match, who tells you to email, you get no email back, you email again, you call again, etc., etc. and ultimately it turns out you have to do something like send a certified letter signed by a notary or bolstered by an Act of Congress or something and then MAYBE within ninety days they’ll stop charging your credit card.  It becomes such a hassle to get off of match.com that you just forget about it for another three months, until you see that charge again and flip out.  Maybe you even go on match, figure, fuck it, I’m payin’ for it. You go on match and it’s the exact same chicks that are on OKC, except they too haven’t logged on to match in three years. Continue reading

Throwing in the Jizz Towel

16 Apr

So– I no longer give a shit about getting laid.  Or I do, on a visceral level, like if I see a hot young chick with big tits jogging down the street I get horny.  Whenever the nineteen year old mailroom girl comes by to deliver the mail, I get all pheromonal.  We have a thing together, a flirtatious thing.  I need to figure out how to make something happen with that.

Except I don’t, because that’s the thing.  Aside from the most basic animal lust, I do not give a shit about getting laid.  I will not go through the slightest effort to get laid.  I will not say or do anything at any time that is any different than if I were not trying to get laid.  Which I’m not.  Trying to get laid.

Like– twice in the past few weeks I’ve had good first dates with hot, reasonably interesting girls that I’ve gotten along well with.  Perfectly solid girls.  4 stars on OKCupid for sure.  Each time we ended up back at the apartment and it got physical; in one case the chick wouldn’t take out her puss cuz she had a yeast infection, in the other I ended up performing oral sex on her.  So while obviously I tried to have sex on the first date and it didn’t happen, sex on the second date, which in both cases we had quasi-planned that night– sex on the second date was fucking GUARANTEED.  And both times, I blew it off.  I did the thing that girls do to me– I texted them that day that I couldn’t make it without proposing a specific other time that we could go out.  Because it was too hot, I was too hung over, the drive was going to be a pain in the ass… I did not make the simple effort just to go and harvest the fucking that I had painstakingly sewn on those first dates.  I could not be bothered to reach my hand up and pluck the ripe fruit from the tree.  Too much work.  These girls would have had to volunteer to come over to my place some night when I was already drunk basically.

Continue reading

Internet Pussy: The Cave of Forgotten Dreams

11 Apr

I’m good at internet dating.

This means I’m good at taking a girl out, getting her a little drunk, and then fucking her.  I’m good at steering the second date to dinner at my house so I don’t have to drive to get laid.  I hear a lot of “I’m not usually like this” so I figure, you know, I must be onto something.*

Anyway.  Point being, I am good at internet dating, and that is horrible, because it’s one of those things that if you’ve had enough practice to be good at it you’ve failed in some larger sense.  Like— being good at pulling your own teeth.  Being good at showing people you’re not a pussy when you show up to a new prison.  It’s awesome that you’re a badass but the idea is that you figure your shit out and don’t have to go back. I wanted a relationship out of this, not 5,000 pieces of pussy.  I wanted some god damn companionship.  Someone I can call when the clouds are pretty or something and say, you know, go look at the pretty clouds.

Instead, I have merely gotten a ton of meaningless ass.  And then I’ve taken the confidence from getting that ass and taken it into the real world to get other, even more meaningless ass.  And it’s made me complacent.  Maybe there is viable girlfriend material out there but I can’t be bothered to look for it because I’m driving out to Sherman Oaks to bone some nineteen year old.** Continue reading

Reader Mailbag: How to Make a Good OKCupid Profile

8 Apr

REDACTED asks:

I gotta be honest man. You have the best profile I’ve ever read. Both in terms of being well-written, paced and humorous, and also as probably able to wrangle in more women than any other jerkoff profile I’ve seen. Respect.

That being said, I’m curious if you could give me your thoughts on my profile. I know it’s kind of a lame thing to ask, but fuck it, you get it. Do you have any advice for me on how to better attract chicks on here?

OK, well first of all, thank you for saying such nice things.  I like my profile, too.  I get a lot of these emails because of reddit users briefly discussing me months ago.  And most of my visitors are dudes from out of state.  So, thanks guys.  I wish you were nubile young women from Southern California, but, fuck it.  At least someone gives a shit.

But I should tell you– I get an incoming email from an actual girl in my age range about once every two weeks.  If this is in fact the best profile on the entirety of OKCupid, and I am a six foot one athletically built white guy who is gainfully employed in a major metropolis, and this is the unsolicited message yield one can expect from an “original” and “humorous” profile, men are genuinely fucked.  Plus my response rate on outgoing emails is about fifty per cent, my phone number rate when I ask this fifty percent for it is about fifty percent, the call back rate when I leave a message is about fifty per cent, and the amount of dates that actually result in sexual intercourse or wanting to see the other person again is fifty per cent, and so on.  I am in a Zeno’s paradox of pussy where you are walking halfway of halfway of halfway along a wall forever and by the time all the hoops are jumped through the possibility of having an actual relationship is functionally zero. So even if this profile is so fucking great, it’s like– the most lethal Nerf weapon ever invented.  There’s just not much you can do. Continue reading

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