Three years ago, I divulged that I’m a major weenie when it comes to medical procedures.
My public inner monologue about sperm donation started two years ago. If you attended the Monti GrandSLAM last month, you got an update. Stay tuned for more on that topic.
A year ago, I went on a date with “Mike“. It was terrible. (I feel like I should make a “major weenie” joke here… something about what could’ve salvaged the date, but… nope. I got nothin.)
It’s not going much better now. The prospects on Match are 0% higher quality than on OKCupid (“PS NO LIBERALS” read a recent profile), and the algorithm—that I’m paying actual US dollars for—notified me that it had matched me with jls1969 because we had the same birth month.
The same. Birth. Month.
They tried to make it sound better by saying he didn’t smoke either. OH GOOD GOLLY GOSH, a Virgo or maybe a Libra who is also a non-smoker?! Thank you, match.com—it’s everything I ever dreamed! When I was a tiny girl, I used to say, “One day I want to marry a non-smoker who is a Virgo. Or maybe a Libra.”
I mustn’t lose faith. There’s always this guy:
What do I think about him, match.com?
I think him’s a her.
Looks like she thinks him’s a her too.
Of course, the pic looks like a stock photo plucked from a Google Image search for “straight white teeth”, and the profile is almost too perfectly generic. My guess is it’s a new angle on the old Nigerian bank scam.
But! Him/her is not a smoker!
There’s that!!
!!!!
I can’t for the life of me understand why people think I’m jaded.
Happy Retrobruxist Friday, y’all.