My Worst Date Ever™

Click here for a bit about another lovely internet date. What, you don't like racist, sexist, drunken cheapskate dates?

"I caught sight of my date, across the room, opening his leather jacket, taking out a bottle of Malibu rum and chugging from it. Stunned, I watched him return to his seat empty-handed. "They're out of beer," he announced."

Modern Girl's Guide to Being Dumped

If it’s been awhile since you've been dumped, ladies, here's a warning: A few things have changed, but others have stayed exactly, excruciatingly, the same. Here’s a short to-do list to get you started:

• Wipe away literal tears.

• Pull up metaphorical britches.

• Apologize for that text you shouldn’t have sent.

• Dust off your dating blogger pen.

• Change facebook relationship status from “In a relationship” to “single.” You can leave it blank for awhile, but why? Embrace it. You’re single.

• Update your Netflix queue. You don’t need to get his action movies, or the first season of Flight of the Conchords, which you’ve already seen but just rented so you could show him how awesome it is. Pick out every girly-ass movie you wanted to watch but had to bargain for. Been longing to finish watching Sex in the City? Fancy some cheesy musicals? Go for it.

• Get his shit out of your house. All of it. And don’t use the exchange of stuff as an excuse to “see how he’s doing.” He’s probably fine; or at least better than you are.

• Re-program your speed dial. It’s hard enough to avoid drunk-dialing. You don’t want to do it by an honest mistake.

• Send in a couple of the meanest things you want to say to dearoldlove.com. Don’t cc him on the email.

• Buy more wine.

• Find yourself a hot tub.

• Work out like mad.

• Rebound. Rebound early, rebound hard, rebound often. (With someone in his band, if you can pull it off, if not, someone who plays a different instrument will do).

What am I missing, dear readers? Or for the fells, what’s the same/different when it comes to your “dumpee” list?

WTF guy

Today's guest post comes in from V, who first posted it on her blog, *uncorked. Thanks V!


June 12, 2009

a very awkward gmail chat to start my day. this is with a guy i went out with this past october. once. and now i kind of know why.

9:03 AM
him: hi, how it going?
me: need more coffee…just got off a three hour conference call! ughhhh
how are you?
9:04 AM
him: Ouch! just waking up on the first day of summer vacation
me: oh so jealous
9:05 AM
him: i am not, i did a tad too much celebrating last night
me: well, at least you get to relax today!
him: hopefully but its loos nice out
9:06 AM
me: finally!
him: yes
9:07 AM
did you really mean you think smoking is sexy?
me: sometimes
him: really? why
9:08 AM
me: cigars can be sexy – like just chilling out having a drink outside with a cigar. i love the smell
him: wow, i thought i was the only one out there that thought this way
9:09 AM
me: nah
him: wow crazy
me: brb
9:10 AM
him: ok
9:12 AM
me: i agreed to babysit my nephew tomorrow night and my sister is giving me instructions now.
9:13 AM
him: instructions for what?
9:14 AM
me: he’s only 3 months old, i dont know how to take care of a baby
him: oh gotcha
9:15 AM
so how was the confrence call?
me: long and kind of obnoxious, but productive
9:16 AM
him: thats good
9:17 AM
so do you know others that have “fetishes” for smoking or am i the only one?
9:18 AM
me: i wouldn’t call it a fetish, but i know some people that feel the same way. not sure there’s a support group or anything, but there’s some.
9:20 AM
him: me either, just new to it. just thought i would ask you because i am sort of affraid to look it up on the internet
9:22 AM
me: internet smoking porn? is this what you have in store for summer?
9:23 AM
him: haha no. i didn’t even know there was such a thing
me: i’m surethere is
9:24 AM
him: i wouldn’t doubt it
9:25 AM
are you into that sort of thing
me: what sort of thing
him: smoking porn
9:26 AM
me: not so much
him: wait so you are a little bit
9:27 AM
me: no, i just think that some guys look hot relaxing and smoking a cigar.
him: so you get turned on and one thing could lead to another
9:28 AM
me: I guess, but I wouldn’t say I would be looking up internet smoking porn or anything like that.
9:29 AM
him: i know i wouldn’t
i am not a prev or sick like that
me: ha, good ot know
9:30 AM
him: isn’t it
me: well, i suppose its time i get some work done
9:31 AM
interesting conversation to start my day
him: hope you don’t think i am weird.
ok bye
me: no, dont think you’re weird. have a good day – enjoy the weather!
him: you too
and yes, i think you’re fucking weird, but am afraid of becoming a lampshade so I’ll tell you otherwise.

seriously, this all started purely because i mentioned that a guy, chilling out, relaxing on a summer night drinking a glass of wine, or having a beer and smoking a good cigar was hot. i love the smell of cigars (good ones). and this is what i get in return.

An update came later:



June 22, 2009


him: hi, how are you?

me: i’m ok, a bit tired from a good weekend, but just trying to stay in with the a/c cranked.
him: yeah, it’s pretty gross out today.
me: agreed.
him: does it make you want to smoke?
me: i have to go.

Online Dating Instant Translator

So, I'm looking through old documents, trying to finish some old article ideas I started, when I came across this old CL post--composed as a retort to some similar piece of crap designed to translate women's false descriptions of themselves on dating sites. Yeah, yeah, some men tell the truth on the sites. Maybe some do. But if they do, you can chalk it up to a twist of fate. And, yeah, women exaggerate a little on these things. But what's good for the goose . . ..


Guide for Decoding Men's Personal Ads:

42......................................................62.
Adventurous...................................Unemployed.
Athletic............................................Jock itch.
Average looking..............................Weeping sores, chubby, toothless, etc.
Thinning hair...................................Bald as a cue ball.
Self-employed……...........................Unemployed.
Handsome, I guess..........................I guess NOT.
Centered, Buddhist.........................Right fuckin' nuts.
Knows how to please a woman......Can't sustain an erection.
Likes to please her first..................Can't sustain an erection.
Spiritual............................................Can't get an erection.
Likes petite women.........................Teeny-weeny wienie
Wants to find true love....................Wants to get into your pants.
Friendship first.................................Wants to get into your pants.
Misses being married......................Still in love with his ex/wants to get into your pants.
Nature lover.....................................Homeless/lives under an overpass.
Stocky...............................................Beer belly/manboobs.
Unconventional...............................Think giant silk undies and size 13 heels.
Looks younger than he is...............Delusional and legally blind.
Free thinker.....................................g-g-g-gay.
Open-minded..................................Desperate.
Outgoing...........................................Loud and Embarrassing.
Good sense of humor......................Laughs at all his own jokes.
Good businessman..........................Cheap as dirt.
Professional......................................Unemployed lawyer (trust me).
Big guy..............................................Tall and enormously fat.
Large frame......................................Think Chris Farley's grandpa.
Wants Soul mate..............................Stalker.
Seen the world..................................You could be woman #763!!!
Loves to travel..................................He's moving on in a hurry.
Intellectual.........................................IQ just above room temperature.
Separated...........................................Married.
Divorced.............................................Separated.
Single...................................................Involved
5' 10"...................................................5' 7"
6' 4".....................................................7' 2"
5' 7".....................................................Leprechaun/Tattoo/Gary Coleman

Numbers

*** many thanks to c.vance for sending us this post ****


this is a story of love in numbers.

541 815.3504--- that's my number. used for a great many things.

some women have it programmed into their phone because they know i'm the only one always awake at 03.00; ready with colorful slurs or flattering lies.

some women have it programmed into their phone because they know i'm always awake between 02.00 and 04.00-- when the bars are closed and the only friends i have are cuddled next to people they love --and the flashing ring of my name lets them know no one has died, no one is in trouble... it's a displayed WARNING! HAZARDOUS IF OPENED on the screen of their flip phone. reminders of mistakes made and a lesson learned: never give your number to a drunk.

some acquaintances have used it to ask for $500 bail and a ride out of the cop shop.

some acquaintances have used it to ask for help moving because they fear the man they're moving away from--- standing by the door at 6'3" 200 lbs. to watch over her moving everything, staring down the X and not helping because of a hangover, a bad back and temper waiting for ignition.

most often it is used by creditors asking for $1.000's i don't have.

but, 3 weeks ago, it was used in a new way. it adorned the bottom of a flyer tacked to the middle of a bulletin board at PleasureWorld; a porn shop on 3rd street.

the 1st call was a weekend night-- 02.14 --from a man who had a restricted number and a gruff voice; one of those voices that calls Craigslist adverts looking to buy $5 refrigerators to compliment the other 4 in his yard. either a redneck or a classically trained actor schooled enough to fool these ears bred from South Carolina stock and born in Prineville. called to say:

-Yeah, I'm calling about the add you posted 2 days ago.

-I didn't post an add 2 days ago. You have the wrong number.

not given any thought until the 2nd call, 3 days later, at 16.14. a young man lisped sexual propositions into my phone. graphic; but with a trembling voice that sometimes squeaked. responded:

-I'm flattered, sweetheart, but I think you dialed the wrong number.

-Oh. Oh my Guh-a-od. Stho you din't postht that 1 add?

-What 1 add?

-Oh... I'm stho embarathed. Y'know, that 1 add? At PleaschthureWorld?

-Nope. I don't know. What did that 1 add say?

-Oh. Jezthus. I'm sthO sthorry. It... uhm. It sthaid, "20-sthomething man stheeking company. I'm diztheasthe free but you don't have to be." I'm sthorry, I thought---

-That's funny. And explains the call I got 2 nights ago.

-Oh. Did you... do you know hith number?

that's where i hung up. dialed 411 where a Southern operator told me i had the wrong city and state for DisneyWorld and there were no listed amusement parks in the area. only after spelling it out and yelling:

-It's a porn shop on 3rd street.

did she transfer me to a computer telling me it would dial 5.4.1. 3.1.7.9.7.2.3. for an additional $382.13 or 4 Euros. a woman stopped the ringing by answering with the business name in a voice that made me hope she had good penmanship. said:

-My phone number is 541 815.3504 and I believe someone posted an add down there as a prank. Maybe on a bulletin board?

-Let me see. 3504. 3504. 35--- oh. Yes. Here it is. So, even though this is your number, you didn't post it?

-Yep. Even though it is my number. Can you read it to me?

-Sure. It says, "NEED DICK NOW!" That part is all capitalized. Then it says, "Neat, clean-cut mid-20's male seeks 8" black cock. White cock OK if larger. I'm disease free but you don't need to be. Call: (541) 815-3504." Then it says, "P.S. I'm a bottom." So, you didn't post it? Even though it is your number?

-I did not post it. Even though it is my number.

-Oh. Okay then. I'll take it down. Oh! You know what? I bet 1 of your friends did it! Y'know? To be funny?

-I only have 2 friends and they're... hm. Of a different humor, let's say.

-Oh. Then who would have had your number, then?

this was a story of love in numbers. 541 815.3504 is mine. if you were kind enough to post an advert trying to find me sweet man loving, let me have your number to properly thank you

One night stand gone wrong

Most women have the occasional low self-esteem low points. Some women live in that space chronically; we call that having “daddy issues.” One of my worst low points wasn’t daddy related, it was wicked painful breakup related.

I went out solo one night, just because I couldn’t stand to be at home alone another night. My cats were starting to look at me like, “Girl, get the fuck out of here, you’re depressing us, and we’re cats. We always mope.”

So I was sitting alone at the bar, and in walks Chester. He looked vaguely familiar, and when he started talking to me, he told me why. Apparently he and I worked together, or at least for the same company. But we were in different departments, on different floors. We’d never met before, so we chatted for awhile, mostly about work.

No point getting into the nitty gritties here, you guys know where this is going. I got drunk. We made out in the park, we went back to his place. We fucked.

The thing is, he had a nice body. Tall, lean, strong, and, well, nice machinery. So in the morning, when he felt randy again and my head was still swimming in Coors Light and Jaeger bombs, I let him go for it again, and he got me off, again.

Then I looked around as morning filled the room, and memories started coming back to me. There, on the wall, was the picture of his daughter. She looked like maybe she had a touch of the down’s Syndrome. There, on the nightstand, was a photo of his girlfriend. She had Sally Jesse Rafael glasses. There, on another wall, was a poster: A wolf on a cliff, howling at a purple moon. And the thing is? I knew it wasn’t ironic.

I remembered how, the night before, he kept calling me sweetheart and asking if I was OK, if I was comfortable. In my wastedness, I giggled at him and asked why, “Well when an angel falls into your lap, you have to do what you can to hold on.”

As all this flooded back, all I could think was Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

So then he rolls over and tries to go down on me, again, which, I admit, I have a hard time turning down, but as sobriety reared its ugly head, I just needed out. I pushed him off, told him I needed a ride home.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? What happened?” he asked. I cringed when I looked over and saw his awful bowl cut. I remembered that he’d been wearing a Doors T-shirt last night. Tucked in.

Jesus Christ.

“I’m sorry, I just need to go,” I said, tearing around his room looking for clothes.

We got in his El Camino (I am NOT making this shit up). He drove me home. In the driveway, he paused, and seemed about ready to ask a question.

“So,” I said, “I don’t think we need to, like, talk about this. And I really don’t need you to tell anyone at work.”

“What, really? Just one night? That’s it?”

I felt like I was the man. And what I wanted to say was: “One night stand, pal, what do you think that means?”

What I said was: “Chester, you have a girlfriend.”

He nodded, but then tried to tell me again that they were on the outs.

“Nope, I’m sorry. I’ll see you around. Bye.”

I still see him at work from time to time. In the parking lot, or in the hallway. I try to avert my eyes, or just say, “hello,” in the exact same tone I use with all the people I don’t know, but he always smiles brightly. Wistfully, even.

I wonder if he’s told anyone sometimes. But then I think that even if he did, they probably wouldn’t believe him.

Vicarious sex

Not getting any, but have an active fantasy life? Or do you like the idea of porn, but think all that ACTUAL humping is a little freaky? Check out this hipster fad, AIR SEX competitions. It's exactly what it sounds like.

This video is not work safe:



I know a lot of our readers are Oregonians, so how lucky are we that Portland is hosting its very own Air Sex competition this Saturday night at Berbatis. Please go, take video, and send it our way. Because that shizz is hilarious.