Being a Fugly Magnet is Lame

 

So I'm waiting for an appointment that's late, and I hop on POF to see if Good Looking Guy has e-mailed, but of course, he hasn't.

Neither has Neat Cool Nerd Guy who likes Bill Byson.  Bummer.

Instead, three fuglies wrote me. 

It's like I'm a magnet to them, and they are just drawn to me.  What is the deal? One of them had a frightening Frankenstein-shaped head.  The other had a head shaped like a light bulb.  It was rather alarming.

Why do I attract fuglies like a moth to a porch light? 

1. I am NOT fugly.  2. Don't fuglies know they're supposed to write other Fuglies like themselves?  Does a Cyclops try to mate with a swan?  Do frogs mate with eagles?  NO.

So what's the deal-io?

Besides the three fuglies, I have an Italian-Fuglie writing me, but I don't mind so much, because he at least had the balls to write, "If you're not attracted to me, I understand, but I'd still like to make friends." 

Bravo, Fuglie.  At least he knows he's one.  And not assuming that I think he's Brad Pitt.  For that, I just might agree to go out with him.

The other three Fuglies?  Buh-bye.

New Dudes on the Horizon

Ahhh, summer.  Where's it gone?  Sigh.

Apparently this blog went "viral" a few days ago, and I got TONS of visitors in one day.  This is because my dating life, athough tragic/poetic/disappointing is at least for R.E.A.L. and I think people would rather hear more about the American version of Bridget Jones instead of the shit Hollywood passes off as "Romantic-Comedy."  Why watch some unrealistic romantic-comedy that in no way mirrors real life when you can read my blog?

So anyway, there's new dudes on the horizon, already after The Salesman hit the shitter.

And get this.  Don't spill your coffee on your keyboard but there's two who are LOCAL.

As in Rapid City. 

And neither one are so ugly that I will have to put a bag over their head in public.  One is actually hot.  What, you gasp?

However, Doooder and T. think one looks boring.  Of course, it has to be the good looking one, which already is a red flag.  As in, good looking for a man usually means "P.R.I.C.K." or player, take your pick.

But the other seems like a real sweetheart.  Well educated, socially-liberal or at least grounded in the middle, has hair, can write quite well, reads books copiously.  And loves Bill Bryson.  Hmmmm.

I MIGHT meet the good looking one for coffee Saturday, though he 1. golfs (square, I know--sorry Nicky) and 2. sails (kinda pretentious) and 3. doesn't drink (snore).

Oh, wait a minute.  I forgot another one.  Then, there's "Hare," (Harry) the "square x 5" who I've been internet buddies with forever, and he lives in Rapid.  He just texted me this morning and wants to meet up for happy hour Friday.  But Hare's a squared-supreme-deluxe, so, shrug?  Meh, might be a few laughs.  I don't consider him a true contender and have been sending him fart sound effects and bad jokes for years.  Ex.  Me: "So two pretzels walk into a bar," Hare: AND?  Me: "One of them was a-salted."  LOL.  And he has a whiney, high pitched voice and an M.B.A.  But it's good to have male buddies, even if you know they'll go nowhere.

I've got a feeling I'll probably make fun of the good looking boring guy in a future post.

But it's this first square I mentioned, the nice guy who's into Bill Bryson books that I think I might like.

Stay tuned.

Happy Anniversary!

Happy Anniversary to Me!

What's the occasion?  As I was on POF politely answering some email from some homely trolls writing me, I came across a part of my profile that says when I subscribed to this site.

To my horror, it said 2005.  I've been continuously dating on the internet for seven, long years.

In that time period, I've learned a lot. 

Here goes.

Top Ten Things I've Learned Over Seven Years of Internet Dating

1. A bullet hole in a man's bed is a very, very bad thing.  Leave immediately.
2. Just because a man's been married once doesn't mean he'll comitt any more to you than Cactus Man did.
3. A guy who goes too fast, saying how much he likes you and paying you too many compliments is a giant red flag on legs (ex. Cactus Man and The Salesman).  Run!
4. A lot of guys can look good on paper (ex. good job, educated) but be real D-bags once you get to know them.
5. A guy can regularly attend church and be a practicing Catholic and a major Douchebag.  Hello, Hole!
6. Just because he's a good father to his kids doesn't necessarily mean he'll treat you well.
7. If a guy really trash-talks his ex, RUN!  It means he learned nothing from the relationship and doesn't own up to any responsibilities in his relationships.
8.  A guy who sends you a picture of his body parts or chest is a total DOUCHE.  See "Ego" a few posts back.
9.  Guys don't get less DOUCHIER as they age.  They stay about as douchey as they were when they were 25.  They just get more desperate.
10.  A guy that always says, "I'll tell you about that later," is full of shit and buying time before dropping the A-bomb on you.  "Later" will never happen.  He's hiding something.

I'm praying for us all, kiddies.

New rule for Dudes after The Salesman.  I'm going to change my site to "friends only."  I need a break after 7 years.

And Yet Another D-bag

That's right, Bennie.

Flush 'em right down the shitter where they belong.

I've met another douche this summer, and we'll call him The Salesman.  Can you believe it?  Online of course.  It started like every textbook online romance.  Staying up hours talking and laughing on the phone.  It started to look promising, though he was going a million miles an hour.

Stop right there.

"Million miles an hour."  Wait, back up.  That is EXACTLY what Cactus Man did.

"Going a million miles an hour" is a BIG, FAT, RED FLAG, folks.  It's also a "Man thing" that a bad man does.  Defined--saying he really likes you TOO SOON, paying you too many compliments TOO SOON and TOO HEAVILY.  This is always the sign of a d-bag.

After phone dating for only 7 days, he wanted to come up here for a long Labor Day weekend date=  RED FLAG.

I told him no but waved it off as a man thing.  Still, the compliments were raining down on me.  "Oh, you're so pretty/talented/funny" etc.  And they were actually making me feel panicky and really uncomfortable (my red flag system screaming at me,"Anyone complimenting you this heavily this soon is a D-bag!").

Then outta nowhere two nights ago, I get a "I'm falling for you" text.

Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he disappeared.  But of course, I see him all over POF, the dating site, apparently trolling someone new.  I send him several emails and texts, but pifffft.  Disappeared.  No answer.

Compliments, he was full of 'em.  But then he was in sales.  Yes, stop laughing.  Sales.  So I should have known, right?  I was nothing more than a big sales pitch.

New rule.  No more men in "sales."  You're just nothing but an aquisition, someone to win over, a challenge.

Douche.  What a douchebag.