Throwing Shit Against The Wall, One Date at a Time

Weirdos and Other Pitfalls

Men are Giant Vajayjays

Yep I said it. That’s what I’ve learned from my endless experience with dating men in NYC.

It’s actually a little insulting that being scared and timid is associated with my private regions. Sure men are the ones who can kill a spider (or in NYC a cockroach) without screaming. I can do this too; though I will put my rain boots on before doing so. However, women are the ones brave enough to be honest about their feelings and most of the time have big enough balls to express them. 

Apparently for men no longer interested in an early stage relationship it is perfectly acceptable to just fall off the face of the Earth.  I can’t tell you how many times it’s happened to me or one of my friends.  Now I’ve done my fair share of going off the radar, but that’s after a date or two, not after several months.  Sure, it’s personally easier, but it’s just plain rude.

You’re trying to avoid the emotions and the chance of me (or any other woman) turning into a crazy person. I understand that, however I will tell you that the chances of me turning a crazy person are 10,000% more likely if you date me, pretend like you’re going to stick around for a bit and then just disappear. If I see you in a bar and I happen to be drunk (chances of this are also high), I am definitely going to punch you in the face or at least the stomach (a lot easier on my little fist).

Moral of the story boys: Grow a pair. Own up to your feelings if you’re “not feeling it.” Dealing with a few tears is probably a lot better than a gut shot. If I wanted to date/breakup with a pussy, I’d be a lesbian.

-B

The Best (Worst) OkCupid Message of all Time

I received the following gem a few months ago and have been saving it up for the right occasion. It has been the fodder of countless conversations over drinks with the girls.  You will soon see why.  It is best to be read out loud to get the full impact of the lovely prose.  Stick with it; I promise it will be worth your while.  Enjoy!

hey, in this crazy world, on this crazy night,
in the worst of weather, there seems no light.
in a dark apartment, atop a creaky bed,
lies a man who would be better off dead.
for being alone is that man’s curse, you see?
it seems he was doomed for all eternity.

but one brief night, amid an achy storm,
a web page was visited, a new thought born.
to join okcupid, in search of another kindred soul,
to melt two hearts together, that was his goal.
he decided at night, on a thoughtful and direct way,
he wrote a poem, to send this beauty to say:

you are absolutely stunning, a true diamond at last,
would you respond? if I promised I was a blast..
i’m witty, cunning, strong, quick, and smart,
but with your beauty, you could take me apart.
you’re beauty astounds me, you make my eyes feel like candy,
would you be pissed if I made your nickname Andi?

so what do you say, you’ve been reading for a while?
not quite what you expected, but don’t at least I deserve a trial?
take a chance and get to know me now,
cause life is too short, and you don’t have a boyfriend anyhow.

Yep, that’s right.  This young man thought it would be appropriate to write me a poem using, of all things, Hurricane Irene as his romantic inspiration/catalyst.  Weird, yes.  Perhaps in some strange way funny, sure.  But then to put the icing on the bizarro cake, you insulted me at the end! I may be single, but at least I’m not writing creepy poems to random people on the internet.

-B

Not Moving To Abbey Road Anytime Soon

Last week, I went on a date with a British guy who likens himself to Ricky Gervais.  In my mind (shallow!), an accent and a ticket into the European Union are enough to override a few extra pounds in the belly- so i had high hopes for this one.  When we arrived at the bar for our date, we learned that said bar was hosting an Indian speed-dating event. Indian speed dating is more fun to watch than you think-  it’s like you can smell the disappointed parents threatening to arrange a marriage if this one last shot at love doesn’t work out.  In any case, the date was fine until he got wasted and I held my Whiskey like a champ.  When he entered the taxi with me, he did so with “intentions” of getting out after i was near my destination but his lecherous grabbing and tongue-darting told an entirely different story.  We kissed.  He tried to come home with me.  I said no.  The Brit didn’t score that night, and I’m sad to report that I don’t think any Indians did, either.

-L