Saturday, December 28, 2013

Kickin' ass and taking names...

Dear friends of the douche, as the new year is dawning, my gift to you is another entry for your turd-pushing reading pleasure…a former excerpt from my one-time profile on a popular online dating site…although it was initially written as a means for me to lash out from the injustices of the online dating world, the responses to it ultimately led me to develop this project and for that I am most grateful as 2013 comes to a close.  One caveat though…I have mostly maintained the integrity of the original piece, but have taken the liberty today to make some very minor changes based on some recent events…

“After desperately (and I do mean, desperately, i.e., 2-3 dates a week with every possible douche bag on here attempting to meet a decent, well-intentioned man who is easy on the eyes, can use a hammer without breaking my shit, is academically gifted, emotionally available and no longer living in his parents' basement, as well as someone who will see my photos, read a bit about my personality and achievements and fall madly and wholeheartedly in love me to the point that he would tattoo one of my many selfies on his forearm (notwithstanding the fact that I have been criticized by one member on here on multiple occasions for having too many selfies), I have only come to realize that my efforts have been fruitless in the traditional sense of why most of us are on here (or what I initially thought we were on here for). However, I have also found that this experience has allowed me to laugh at myself and my being "relationship"-challenged to the point where I am now starting to just take hold of it as if it were this living, breathing thing that in a distorted sort of way, is actually quite full of substance, gratifying and begging me to just embrace it and all of its musings...

Despite being criticized for where I live, for having kids, not having the right photos, not being dumb, not being "girly" enough, being a smoker, not being more “slender”, being an "older" woman, not looking to just "have a good time", hearing "there's nothing wrong with you, but..." and blown off on multiple occasions, including most recently, by a guy who likes to hang out in Brooklyn bathhouses and have fat Russian women with saggy tits whip him with eucalyptus branches because it’s good for his circulation AND a fake doctor with overly big muscles and, ironically, an overly small penis, I have, over the last 8 or 9 months, been avidly assembling a collection of my experiences - some in writing and some just sitting patiently in my head waiting for the right moment to make an entrance...[Eureka!!! The birth of douche bag manifesto.]

Don't get me wrong, I am a smart woman...I realize that what I am writing here is quite atypical for a profile piece in a online dating forum aimed at wooing men to Team Indigo Blue and clearly this will not help my initial "cause" of getting a diamond on my left ring finger...but as I mentioned earlier, fuck it...I am passed the point of wooing and I am now taking a bubble bath in cynicism with a glass of prosecco and a cigarette to boot (wait, wait...not just one cigarette...the whole damn pack is coming on in with me). Ultimately, I've figured it out...the yellow fucking brick road doesn't lead to Oz...it leads to a less than desirable dude without much in his middle pocket talking crap behind a curtain...well, here I am and I'm kickin' ass and taking names....”

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

On the first day of Christmas my douche bag gave to me

            So I know I have been a really good girl this year, but I didn’t realize how good I actually was until not only did Santa bring me one douche bag for Christmas [see my earlier post], but later in the day he delivered another…a 23-year-old who will be hereafter referred to as “DB#2” [no pun intended]…

DB#2:  Heyy Ms. Gorgeous

[I just ignored this email because I am not interested in 23-year-olds.  However, he was persistent and went for it again…]

DB#2:  Wanna sit on my face?

[like a snowball in the face, now he's got my attention…]

Me:  How did you know?

DB#2:  Lol I had an idea…

Me:  You’re right…for 25 you really know what women want.

DB#2:  Lol your sarcasm is making you even more desirable

DB#2:  Soo sitting in ma face is a no go? Lol

Me:  Sitting on your face is not a no go…but only if you let me shit down your throat.  Merry Christmas!


Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Isn't It Ironic?


Although today I had all intentions of giving you some additional background on the evolution of this project, I got side-tracked this morning by, well of course, an email I received from a 35-year-old lawyer on OKC; we'll just refer to him here as "DB".  Basically it went like this: 

Me:  Would you be interested in chatting sometime?

DB:  Sorry, but I am not interested in dating someone with children at this point in my life.

Me: Totally understand that...because what I am really looking for is a replacement daddy for them, someone that will allow me to be a stay-at-home mom and watch them while I go to play tennis with my girlfriends at the country club, all while I am screwing my tennis coach. :/

DB:  Wow. That is completely unnecessary and if you cannot understand why someone would not necessarily want to be with someone who already has children, then I feel sorry for you. It has nothing to with being a "replacement daddy."

Me:  Don't take it so personally. I really do understand.  You are not the first person to not be interested in dating me because I have children. I get it, but it's also very close-minded because you don't know anything about me or my situation with my children. However, if you choose to completely write off someone for no other reason than that they have children, so be it…but I feel sorry for you as well for being so narrow-focused in your search. Have you ever dated anyone with children?

DB:  No, I have not.

Me:  Exactly. So, instead of having tunnel vision, take a look beyond the box - you may be pleasantly surprised by what is out there and what those things have to offer. Now, you are 35 and have never been married, correct? Perhaps maybe you're searching for something that doesn't exist or maybe you haven't found what you really want in a cute, young 26 year old who perhaps still is a size 2 because she hasn't pushed out any kids yet but substantively, she may not have too much between her ears, let alone much life experience…just saying. Regardless though, I appreciate your honesty in telling me you wouldn't date me because I have children…you're right…it would never work. I would eat you and your shallowness alive and then vomit it up on a platter, which I would then serve to you for dinner on a silver platter while I was wearing fuzzy stiletto heels and fishnets. Furthermore, you clearly wouldn't be able to handle a strong independent woman with a career and life beyond just waiting for your phone call after a night of poker with the boys.

DB:  Talk about shallow and making assumptions. Your defense mechanism of lashing out and stereotyping others is unattractive.

Me:  Yes, yes it is. I am incredibly unattractive and uncouth. Yet, you are still continuing to engage with me.


Can you say, “ironic”? 

Sunday, December 15, 2013

I know what you're thinking...

I know what you’re thinking…cut the woe is me shit and don’t all single women who get stood up or blown off by guys think that they also are talented at finding douche bags and that is, therefore, the sole reason why they are still single?  Perhaps.  But, I’m not here to assess your or anyone else’s douche bag magnetism or comment on the plight of all single women in general – firstly, because I don’t give a shit; secondly, because this is my project and, as you will all come to realize in due time, this is pretty much all about me, me, and then…more of me.

Being an attorney though, part of my job is to develop disclaimers…you know, those little words on the bottom of an ad that no one reads until you are on line and ready to make that purchase when the cashier gloatingly points out to you that you clearly didn't read them…well, here's a few disclaimers…

I can't promise you'll like everything on douche bag manifesto. or that it will be tasteful…knowing how my mind works, this blog will likely be crass, may be rude, may be off-putting or just plain suck at times or quite often…I don't make any warranties of any kind and it is offered to you "as-is"…however, what it will do is make you chuckle, and for some of you singles waiting to receive something in your in-box that will get you off that site finally, allow you to relate and also laugh at the absurdity of the online dating world that for lack of any better words, just downright fucking blows...  



           

Saturday, December 14, 2013

That Text (a.k.a., "Dildos Happen")

At age 9 I was labeled “gifted and talented”.  I am not exactly sure how I qualified for this designation; regardless though, the classification was evidence in and of itself of my capacity for being “gifted and talented” at something.  

So, in a recent bout of self-analysis, something I do generally once a month and often coinciding when feminine products make it on the shopping list, I decided to try and itemize my various gifts and talents…being excessively wordy when writing (I know you are thinking that at this very moment); pissing off my mother (not something unique to just me, but something I am quite good at nonetheless); walking “up” the “down” escalator (all too often)…

And then suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, I received that text…you know, the text…the blow off text…the I know we had plans to go for dinner tonight at 9, but there’s been an emergency…my grandmother stuck a giant dildo up her ass at the senior center’s Friday night “truth or dare” event and now needs to have emergency surgery or die, and I have to be there to perform the surgery because the doctor that typically performs dildo surgeries is at the “Dildos Happen” medical conference in Abu Dhabi and won’t be back until Wednesday and the surgery is scheduled to be 13 hours because the dildo pierced her intestine so I definitely won’t be able to meet up after or tomorrow and…(okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly what the text was, but the excuse was just as fucking preposterous as that so just indulge me here)…still though,  at that very moment it dawned on me…the gift and talent that really stood out amongst the rest and was not grounded on a set of standards determined by a suspect third party with questionable qualifications or my own narcissism for that matter… the one ability that truly warranted the “gifted and talented” designation and the one for which, I believe, I do actually reign supreme…there it was, looking at me right in the face (along with dildo fairies dancing in my head)…my unrivaled aptitude for attracting and being attracted to…douche bags.