How to Talk to Women Online

The trick is to talk to her as if she is a human being. Do not talk about your penis.

Speak to her as if she exists in the real world because this is, in fact, all happening in the real world. The internet is not magic, and you are no wizard. You are no one other than yourself (and honestly, yourself needs to be doing a better job). Treat her like a human being the first time.

If there’s one thing I hear way too much on the internet—aside from “nice tits” and “I bet you’re great at sucking dick”—It’s the standard apology followed by, “I’m actually a really [insert unsubstantiated, unlikely, positive attribute: nice, smart, great, funny] guy, my [minimization of substandard and gross behavior] to the contrary. But I’m here to let you know that this is not true. You are not the person you wish yourself to be on the internet; you are exactly the person you have revealed yourself as. You are not your intentions but instead your actions, the horrible garbage monster you’ve been acting like until you aren’t anymore (you can change right now…or now…still now…yup now too…honestly at any moment you could change your whole way of being and just stop treating people terribly and being ridiculous and boring and predictable and detestable. I promise). So, if you’re writing things like “DTF?” in a first message or “I want to bury myself in your body” (yes, these are super real examples), please know that that is genuinely who you are. You are not a child testing the waters, you are grown up making people uncomfortable because of how little empathy (and respect, and social awareness, etc.) you have.

I wish my advice could be as simple as “just be yourself” but apparently that’s what many men have been doing and frankly it’s not working out so great for anybody involved. So instead, my advice is to be better than your current self. I don’t know who to blame for the way you to speak to women, for the way you’ve confused harassment for honesty and the unsubstantiated sense of self-worth for quality but it has to stop.

[sidenote: if you’re a man who approaches and speaks to women in a kind and intelligent manner, well, this article obviously isn’t directed at you, but then of course you already know that.]

Do not talk about your penis. From the very first moment you noticed this cucumber of an appendage, you have loved it. It has been your best friend, your most cherished possession, and at times your greatest accomplishment. But this is an illusion. No woman will ever love your penis the way you do. Your penis is more boring than a sober academic. Not my penis! I can hear you shouting. Yes. Your penis. It’s boring and tedious and, if I’m being honest, your penis is exactly like my apartment in that we all wish it was bigger. Unless your dick is more like my student loan debt inasmuch as there’s always just way, way too much. Jokes aside, given the data on the female orgasm—something like 75% of women never reach orgasm through penetration alone, 10-15% never reach orgasm at all (omg ladies I’m so sorry!), leaving only 10-15% who have the potential to get off straight from the D (though to be clear that’s just the possibility, it might not be every time and/or with every D)—So like what are we even talking about here? How illogical do you have to be (or how totally unaware of the realities of sex) to think your dick matters? Dicks are basically worthless (not to be confused with men being worthless because obviously not). What I’m saying is that men need to stop buying into the hype that your dick is the part of you that matters. It’s only a tiny part of you, and honestly, I’d rather hear about your degree in Journalism, or your passion project, or your relationship with great Aunt Susan, or what you ate for breakfast (which should tell you a lot because I’m guessing your morning meal is pretty fucking boring).

But if not straight up dick talk, what can I say to interest her?

Interesting people are usually curious, so ask her about her life and then when she asks about yours, go ahead and tell her. Listen when she talks, act as if she may have experienced something of value or even that her very experiencing of something may have given it value. Be empathetic and kind. Don’t talk about your penis.

Try to find a common interest. Does she like wizard jokes? Does she collect Labyrinth memorabilia? Is she crushing a fantasy football league with her team “The Bad Reviews Bears”? Ask her. Have you asked her? Fucking ask her! Once you discover something in common, run with it. Even if it’s something as silly as you both like to attend Kraft Singles events (which I’ve heard are very cheesy). Turn that common thread into a conversational sweater and knit something warm together. Don’t talk about your dick.

When she asks you about yourself, be honest and self-aware (you don’t need to be your own hype man, your actions and accomplishments will speak for themselves). If, when you attend parties, people don’t congregate around you in an orbital bliss of laughter—do not claim you have an amazing sense of humor (your sense of humor is average, which isn’t amazing but it’s fine, I’m sure you have something else going for you, I mean don’t sweat it).  Don’t say things like “I’m young at heart” or “I don’t look my age” because your heart has been slowly dying since the day you were born and honey, in regards to your age, if you have to say it—you aren’t it.  You know why babies never get up in your face to tell you how youthful they are?  Because their shit filled diapers and chubby cheeks do that for them.  The same rules apply for your face.  Also, those pleated khakis already gave you away. Stop giving yourself medals for kindness (to be totally honest, we’re all varying degrees of asshole and the only thing that makes that tolerable is our ability to admit it, so rather than pretending you’re the King of Benevolence because one time you didn’t act like a total psycho when someone rejected your advances, maybe just be real about who you are). You know that cliché saying “nice guys finish last”? It’s not true at all. Nice guys finish first all the time, people fucking love those guys. Entitled jerks who lack self-awareness finish last though (those dudes are the fucking worst amirite? Yuck!).

Now, I know what you may be thinking: How on earth am I going to let her know that I’m sexually attracted to her.

If you’re contacting her on any website or app that is sex/dating related, just assume she already knows this. No one who isn’t completely ridiculous is trying to make friends over on Plenty of Fish or Tinder (and if, by some stretch of the imagination, that did happen, those people usually say it right off the bat). Men often complain (to me—why do they keep thinking I care about their gripes? Like I’m some kind of wish fountain for subpar strangers?) that women on apps like Tinder are all just looking for friends, but I’m going to keep it real with you. While that’s obviously a possibility (anything is possible, I mean we live in a world where men think saying “nice tits” might actually get them somewhere), it’s unlikely. What’s more likely is that there was a possibility of attraction (again my god! this world is so full of possibilities!! Ahhh the excitement!!) that said dude then completely smashed to bits by being unimpressive (at best) or offensive/misogynistic (at worst). So like I said, if you’re having a nice conversation with a woman online, know that she knows you’re attracted (or that it’s at least in the realm of possibilities). Save the “nice tits” talk for when you’ve managed to see them for the first time. Because that’s the thing about sexual comments, context is key. A stranger talking about your body online is creepy as fuck, a man talking about your body the first time you show it to him is delicious.

This may come as a surprise but you don’t have to dehumanize a woman to have casual sex with her (in fact, if you were any good at sex you’d likely already know that the best sex happens when people feel comfortable and relaxed enough to really be themselves and, for lack of a better phrase, let it all hang out). Also, please don’t confuse a woman wanting to have casual sex with the idea that a woman who wants casual sex will definitely want to have it with you. I love casual sex (Big Fan! Huge!) but I have to be attracted/interested in having it with someone. It’s not just a first-cum scenario. You have to be brilliant and hilarious and interesting and kind and socially/self-aware, it’s a whole fucking thing.

That said, if you’re contacting a woman on ANY other website/app, well I mean you probably shouldn’t be trying to get at her in a sexual way. I mean, would you show up at your doctor’s house for a prostate exam? No, so why would you approach a woman via Twitter where she’s trying to make a name for herself writing jokes or promoting her new startup in a sexual way? If your interest lies in her as a person than talk to her like a human being. Honestly, you could just support whatever she’s doing because it’s amazing and interests you, and you could just never impose any other desires or expectations on her, ever. I mean, you can really do that, speak to women for no other purpose than they’re doing creative and brilliant things that you find interesting. It’s okay to just support and value someone. It’s okay to just be a human being with empathy.

Relax, It’s Just Dating

It's Just Dating

The reason I have to ask every guy I talk with online, “so, what are you looking for on here?” is because most people are incredibly stupid dating websites make things incredibly difficult.  In some areas, they offer too much specificity, in other areas, not nearly enough.  For example, I’m still waiting for Plenty of Fish to get back to me about what exactly the difference is between these dating intents.


FYI, there is no difference.  These two things mean the same thing and whatever distinction could be made between the two is so complex and intricate that it could only be clarified with further discussion between the two people involved.  So, honestly, what are you even doing Plenty of Fish??

And yet, as hard as I am on Plenty of Fish, I understand the impetus.  Because most people are ridiculous haven’t put much thought into this, they have a ridiculous understanding of what dating is.  And that’s where I come in, to break it down, real quick.

Why do we demand specificity from water (lake, ocean, sea, river, stream, brook, rapids, waterfall, rain, snow, sleet, hail, etc.) and yet expect the word “Dating” to encompass everything (and by doing so, use it incorrectly).

Dating does not signify commitment.  That’s what words like “relationship” and “boyfriend/girlfriend” and “significant other” and well, to restate the obvious, “committed” are for.

Dating is not sex.  Don’t make me have a correlation/causation discussion with you folks.  While they’re not mutually exclusive, they’re also not mutually inclusive.  You can have dating without sex.  You can have sex without dating.  If you’re just speaking about sex, use your words timmy.  This is when words like “casual sex” and “no strings attached” and “booty call” and “fuck buddy” and “random” and “strange” and “one night stand” or “hook up” should be used.

Dating is not friendship.  You could make the argument that friendship can form out of dating or that two friends could go on a date but the difference is essentially attraction and intent.  So if you’re looking for a pool-shooting-buddy, be clear.  You’re looking for a friend.  If you’re looking for a pool-shooting-buddy that’ll feel you up against the felt?  Well shit.  That’s dating.

And I know some of you might be sitting there reading this thinking why does it matter?  Let me tell you.  So so so so so so much of the hassle and irritation and fucking mind boggling rage surrounding Sex, Dating, Relationships and anything in between is caused by misinterpretations, misunderstandings or any other way to say getting-shit-wrong.  If we can eliminate the confusion, if we can eliminate even just the tiniest bit of the frustration involved, then I’m one step closer to making the world a happier, healthier, more realistic and logical, yet awesome and amazing place.

So the next time a woman says “this guy I’m dating” don’t go putting all your assumptions on her.  Either ask.  Or assume the very minimum that the word entails.  She has gone on a date with a guy.  She has gone on more than one date with a guy.  She expects she might go on a date with a guy again.  There is no reference to commitment   There is no reference to sex.  There is no mention of buddies.  Take her at her word (literally the one she used) and not one that is about to buckle under all the cultural bullshit pulled up on it.

Because the thing is, no one freaks out when I say that I’m running.  They assume it means that I like to run, that I will go running, that I might be running at that exact moment.  No sane person assumes anything else about my running based on my statement.  I say, “I like running,” and they say, “great”.  No one makes me clarify if this is a lifelong pursuit, if I will ever stop running, if I am willing to run with one or several other people. Dating (and most other words) should be treated the same.

And fyi, daters.  It’s pretty pathetic when a person is so terrified of the world as to be afraid to make the claim that she/he is looking for dating and quite frankly, it’s embarrassing every time I have to explain it to one of you that, in fact, you are not looking for “friendship and let’s just see what happens”, you are looking for dating.  Quit being such a fucking baby.

Dating a Dating Blogger: The Butterfly Effect

Panda Ponders

Welp.  I’m dating again.

Grad School is over.  Teaching and marking are done, grades have been submitted.  Summer is here, and I have just under 3 months to enjoy absolutely everything Montreal has to offer before my lease runs out and I return (temporarily) to Vancouver.

And before you close the tab on this post because you can’t stand to read another article where I’m frustrated and bitter and jaded about the state of men who are interested in me, that’s not what this post is going to be like.  In fact, it’s probably the absolute opposite.  Or, at least it would be except for one small but crucial element.

More than ever before, I’m worried about altering the trajectory of the dating in my life (see:  butterfly effect).

I should explain.

I used to keep the blog, my Twitter, and my Facebook hidden from the men I dated.

Then there was a period where I felt like my identity was really wrapped up in the blog (turns out it wasn’t the blog as much as being a writer) but either way, I wanted them to know me and to do so they had to know about the blog.  Not to mention I’m basically the world’s worst liar so if a guy asks what I write, I have a problem telling him I write travelogues for nomads (though that sounds kind of fun…no?).

Then the last few months happened (where in all honesty, I have gotten really bitter) and so I started putting my Twitter handle on my Tinder profile.  Wait.  Let me explain the logic of that because I swear there was some.  It started out because I thought that maybe (cringe for my gross ego) if men knew that I was even slightly funny and/or maybe interesting then they’d stop boring me with talk about their stupid penises and maybe try to have a conversation with me.

Then, it became about… welp if they won’t have a conversation with me because I might be awesome, maybe they’ll just be less offensive because I might make fun of them on a public platform.

For the majority of men, I doubt they even read my “profile” aka that otherwise unexplored space below a picture of me.  For reference, it currently says:

Is this app only for hooking up?

Are you trying to bore my vagina into submission?

Are you bothered that Subway lies about inches?

Twitter: @SSDated

 

That being said there have been a few cool guys who managed to check it out.  Well, technically, many guys could have read it and just thought I was the dumbest, but only a few guys have mentioned anything that wasn’t related to their cocks, so I’m making an educated guess here.

 

Now, why does this all suddenly weigh so heavily on me?

 

Because I went out with a guy.  He first contacted me through Plenty of Fish but in the time it took for me to be done with school, we had matched on Tinder.  And thus, he was exposed to my Twitter and this here blog.  And before you worry that I’m going to tear this poor guy apart on the internet and that that’s my big concern…

A.  Do I ever tear anyone apart who hasn’t been a total fucking d-bag to me?  (hint: no)

B.  Spoiler Alert:  he hasn’t been a d-bag to me

C.  Whether it’s good or bad or funny or weird or swoony and amazing, dating is a fickle bitch.  And while he’s probably too busy right now to even concern himself with reading my blog, I know he’s read posts before and possibly will again and I just don’t like the idea that something I say here could affect whatever we have going on.  Not to mention how sticky things could get if I start adding in some new characters, if you know what I mean (I just mean dating other guys, in case you didn’t feel like that was heavy handed enough).

And before you say that it’s not that serious, not that big of a deal.  I know from personal experience that it kind of is.  For those of you who have been around here long enough to remember The Vampire, that all fell to shit and I basically never heard from him after he found out I wrote about dating.  And while other guys have been more understanding…that’s not entirely the point.

After all, even at my most casual, even with a booty call, even when I couldn’t possibly have made any claim on a guy’s time or his dick, I still would’ve been upset, felt a little jilted, and honestly been kind of turned off if I had to read about a dude I’m with (however loosely) banging other chicks.  I always know, when dating, that these things are a potential reality but just like calories, I like to pretend they don’t exist.

So, are you with me so far?  Does this all make sense?  How I don’t want to fuck up my life (read: possible best summer ever!) by dropping a rock in the calm lake waters causing a ripple effect with the potential of a tsunami?  Okay, good.  But now what?

What do I do, about the website?  (which, in a bizarre side note has managed to have the highest readership I’ve ever had, even though I haven’t been posting much because of school).

Do I blog about everything anyway and hope it doesn’t change the course of whatever happens with any of the guys I go out with?  Do I write the posts now but save the posting until August?  Do I save it all and finally write that ebook that I’ve been meaning to and just release it all at once and make some money from the stories (which feels presumptuous and greedy but a girl has to eat, after all someone has to pay back this student loan to the government)?

And as a side note, if your suggestion is anything other than the first option…does that make for a summer of posting about what…feminism?  my personal weightloss?  body issues?  non-male-specific-sex-posts?  poetry?  shitty fiction?  ugh.

Post First Date: Who Should Make the First Move?

Dating Questions

Something She Said

Stories about sex and dating, screenshots of sexist online dating messages, murder jokes, elaborately long fruit puns–you never quite know what you’re going to get.

Who should text after the first date?

How long should you wait to contact someone after a first date?

Do you have to wait for him to contact you? 

I am a 32 year old woman and, no joke, I actually typed these queries into Google search the day after my first date with the Scientist.  With most of the men I’ve dated I’ve come to realize that no texty means no likey and that they want to be the one pursuing things.  But with a highly educated enlightened dude does all that stuff still apply?  And there I found myself googling dating advice (because though in some areas of dating I know my stuff, this was new territory and I just didn’t know).

The results of my search were all pretty clear:  go ahead and text him, these days guys like not having to always be the one making the first contact.  But, is this really true?  Do guys want you to make the effort to contact them?  Or is it really just in a dream scenario that every guy is hoping Megan Fox is looking up their numbers and calling them to declare her love?  And at that point it’s not really about who called whom first but instead that of course everyone wants someone fucking amazing to call them.  I mean hell, I barely know who Megan Fox is and I’d take her call.  But I digress.

Nonetheless, some of these commenters made some valid points, if only in theory, and given the Scientist being the enlightened nerdy guy I had gathered him to be, I figured what the hell.

 

And so I texted.

 

At 8pm on a Friday night.  (cringe).

 

Hey 🙂

 

And then I waited…

 

And I waited…

 

(I mean technically I got some work done, watched some TV, etc., but you get the idea).

 

I mean it was radio fucking silence.

 

No biggie though, I thought, maybe he’s busy and he’ll respond tomorrow or something.

 

But then tomorrow came and there was no text.  I was bummed.  I mean, I had thought our first date had gone really well, what with all the conversation and kissing and stuff.  Then again, Skinny Jeans had kissed me on our first (and last) date and had even gone out of his way to say it was good, only to never ask me out again.

 

Sidenote:  What is the deal with boys who don’t like me kissing me?

 

And just when I thought I had been unceremoniously rejected after my 2nd first date in a week’s time, I got a text from him that read:

Hey! 🙂  Sorry, crazy day yesterday, nonstop till 1am.  Did you have a good time on Thursday?

and then right away another message

By the way, do you have plans tomorrow evening?

I said that I’d had a good time, and asked if he had as well, and then said that no, I had nothing planned the following night.  To which, he responded:

It was very nice to meet you.  I really enjoyed our conversation.  I wanted to invite you over for dinner at my place.  Let me know if you would like to come.

And just like that…a second date was born.  Was it a good idea that I texted?  Who knows.  Would he have texted me in his own time if I hadn’t?  I have no idea.  What I’m saying is, while I can advise boys on how to stop being losers while online dating, I haven’t a fucking clue about the rest of this stuff.

WISH ME LUCK!!

Online Dating: The Art of Writing the First Message

How to Write a Dating Profile

 

 

How to Write a Great First Message:

1.  Read her profile.  I mean honestly.  This should be the easiest thing in the world, but I can’t tell you how many people have written to me in French when it clearly states that I don’t speak French (apologetically) on my profile.  But seriously, I know this seems obvious and straightforward but I can’t express how important this is…even if by the end, you’re still only messaging because you think she’s a babe.  That’s fine.  If you’re not reading it for you, you’re still reading it for her.  And I know this seems tedious because you might message 10 chicks and only get 1 response back but it matters, and it’s probably what got the 1 chick.

2.  Mention something from her profile.  Did she mention she loves Bon Jovi?  That she’s not from here?  A love of Medieval Fight Club?  A Favorite TV show?  An expectation she has about dating?  Her favorite word?  It doesn’t really matter what it is.  But mention it.  The best possible scenario is if you can say something about it like “I’ve been rocking out to Bon Jovi since my dad gave me my first tape of them when I was 8 [true story btw]” and then ask a question like “what’s your fave song?”,  “who do you think would win in a fight JBJ or Sambora?” or “Have you ever seen them live?”  By stating and then asking, you’re showing her a bit about yourself (and how you two have something in common) and asking her a question, thus giving her an easy way to respond back to you (and taking all the pressure off).

3.  Ask her something.  Assuming you weren’t able to parlay whatever you mentioned about her profile into a question, now’s the time to ask her something.  Keep it light.  Keep it easy to answer.  I know people tend to shy away from “Get up to anything fun this weekend” but if you really can’t think of a single thing else to ask and her profile gives you no clues, go with something safe like that.  At least that way if she deems you cute it gives her something to respond back to with ease.

4.  Proofread.  I know you’re thinking…well I wouldn’t date a girl who’s so judgmental about a couple typos but while you say typos she sees idiot.  Nothing makes you look stupider than simple spelling errors and not knowing the difference between your and you’re.  You don’t need to split atoms, but try not to split infinitives either.  After all, you wouldn’t show up to a first date in your pajamas, so try not to look like you’re asleep in your first message.

5.  Make a good subject heading.  Assuming you’ve done steps 1-4 this should be a breeze.  Using the example of Bon Jovi from earlier the title could be anything like “Bon Jovi” or “80s Rock” or “Similar Music Tastes” or even something unrelated to your message but from her profile.  The key is really just to have something other than everybody else’s Hi, Hey, Hello without shooting too far and hitting her with Hot Tits or something equally stupid.  So now that you know how to make it work, let’s have a look at a few things you’ll want to be weary of.

 

 

Things to avoid:

1. Compliments.  Do not use compliments that are body related in any sense.  For the love of god don’t say curvy, sexy, hot, tits, ass, hips, legs, or anything in this realm.  If you’re a risk taker you can compliment her hair which goes over amazing about 50% of the time…but has also been known to completely bomb.  Your call.  Eyes and smile (not mouth or lips) are okay and if you really feel compelled you can use words like beautiful or stunning (which I get all the time, and I guess it goes over well, at the very least it doesn’t work against).  But the truth is, girls assume if you’re contacting her you think she’s attractive so it’s best to stick to compliments about something they said in their profile (or what you gathered about their personality ie. smart, funny, etc.)  BUT BE WARNED NEVER compliment a girl on something you can’t back up from her profile.  (see #2)

2.  New girl, new message.  Don’t use the same message over and over again.  The truth is, girls are smarter than you’re giving us credit for.  And we can spot a re-usable message a mile away.  And even if we would’ve given you a chance, we likely won’t now since your lazy message tells us you think we aren’t worth it.  And thus, you’re done.  The same thing goes for saying anything that demonstrates you didn’t do step 1 above.  Don’t talk about how she seems super fun and upbeat if all her pictures are posed and straightfaced and her profile is laced with emo references and Twilight slang, etc.

3. Keep it short, keep it simple, do not go over the top.  This is so so so vital.  I don’t know what romantic comedies lead you boys astray but come on.  No chick wants to hear that you love her in a first message.  That’s not endearing, that’s fucking insane.  And the same goes for anything mushy, poetic, artsy, creative (unless funny) or that shows you wearing your delusional heart on your sleeve.  Try to remember, you don’t even know this chick.  So settle down, send a calm message, and hope for the best.

4.  Do not focus on yourself.  While it’s okay to mention a quality/characterisitc/hobby/skill/interest/etc. of yours, do not give her a list of your latest accomplishments, a copy of your CV and the entire menu of your last night’s meal.  She doesn’t give a shit, I promise you!  The truth is, the first message is more about expressing your calm relaxed, attentive but not overly eager, totally normal interest in her.

5.  Do not say anything sexual.  period.  Seriously dudes, fucking stop this.

And that’s all she wrote guys.  Now go forth and prosper.  Take what I’ve said here and put it into action.  She’ll thank you for it, trust me.

 

Age is Not Just a Number: He Wore Pleats

Old Dudes

 

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he message reads not half bad.  It’s polite.  It takes an interest in me.  It indicates I’m lovely.  Facts Are Facts.  So I check out his profile.  Flash-aaaaaahhhhhaa-Savior of the Universe.  And I can hardly believe my eyes.  Have I found me a Freddie Mercury look-a-like?  Or Tom Selleck.  Or perhaps even John Oates.  But no.  It appears to be just regular guy.  Though he looks like a mix of those three, moustaches and all.

I, of course, am mistaken because this dude does not turn out to be just any regular guy.  He is a special species, one of a noticeable nature, a likened lot, a particular pedigree.  This fellow is of the variety of gentleman I kindly refer to as stupid motherfucking pain in my ass idiot childish moronic “Old dude unawares”.

The Old Dude Unawares or ODU, comes in many different forms.  If he looks like my new boyfriend he’ll be dressed to the nines in his khaki pleated shorts but still claiming the age of 33 on his dating profile.  In the words of a movie (that he’d be told old to get the reference for) “As if!”  And to be honest, even if it wasn’t for the pleated attire, I would’ve guessed his age at somewhere that side of 40…maybe even glancing down the barrel of 50.  So, I ask you, What’s the deal with old guys?

Ironically, I’m into older guys.  What I’m not into???  Old dudes fucking embarrassing themselves pretending to be young dudes.  You know what’s sexy?  Self-awareness.  And this is something all ODUs lack.  The self-awareness to know better.

 

This just in.

 

You’re not young at heart.  You sir, are a fucking idiot.

 

Now not all ODUs will show their stripes like mine did, clad in khaki so pleated even Grandpa would’ve cringed.  Some look completely normal for their age, excepting of course the fact that they think they stand a shot in hell with me.  Others will be the typical Hollywood man-child or Manhattan detached-tycoon or any of the other stereotypical options I see in movies and on TV but what will be exactly the same about all of them, is a total lack of ability to think logically when it comes to personal matters and a total disregard for that precious thing I already mentioned self-awareness.

And the thing of the thing is…I can’t really figure the ODU out.  I don’t know why he pursues me.  Because Pleaty over there wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last.  In fact, he is only one of many in a long line of too-close-to-my-dad’s-age-why-are-you-so-gross-and-creepy old dudes.  And I reiterate, I truly don’t get it.

Is it a procreation thing?  Because uh..well…fuck…don’t be looking for babies in these uterine walls, soldier.  Is it an arm candy thing?  Okay this one I tiny bit get but then…um…

  • what’s in it for me?

Because here’s a secondary problem of the ODU.  They’re just average guys.  Possibly below average but I’m trying to be nice.  Now I would get the whole thinking-it-reasonable-logical-actually-possible-to-snag-a-foxy-woman-20-years-your-junior if you were say….RICH…or…FUCKING GORGEOUS…or…RIDICULOUSLY SMART…or even HILARIOUSLY HILARIOUS.  But what about the regular Joes?  I mean what-the-fuck-are-they-thinking???

  • Why me?

It’s not like I’m Pamela Anderson or Angelina Jolie or whoever the fuck else you boys are idealizing these days.  Because if you’re going to go young…wouldn’t you also keep up the arm-candy-trophy-wife approach?

 

And to be honest it makes me wonder.  What’s really wrong with our society?  That men (and women, let’s be fair) feel the need to lie about their age.  Or pretend it doesn’t exist.  Apparently as time passes many of us by, instead of being proud of the lives we have lead, we end up cowering to a societal pressure.  A pressure, that quite honestly I don’t feel really exists except in the mind of weak people who lie about their age…but then again…ask me when I’m 40 and my answer might change…see…I’m open to being fallible…but I digress.  And the reason for lying is generally the same…to keep more dating options open.  Men want to be able to contact younger girls who have selected not to be contacted by men 20 years their senior and women want to not limit themselves to dating men their father’s age once they’ve passed 30.  Or something like that.

Either way, everybody is holding on, tooth and nail, to a youth that isn’t their’s to grasp.

And then of course, the hilarity of Pleaty gets a little less funny and a little more sad as I think about a society that relishes in the unrealistic (not to be confused with art/fantasy/etc.) and unaware world that creates these situations.

 

Sure…age is just a number.  Then again words are just letters…but when you string them together they fucking mean something.

40 Days of Dating

40 Days of Dating

 

[dropcap]I[/dropcap] try to reserve my hate for really horrible things like genocide and poverty, but under the assumption that I’m obviously not comparing this project to the true worst things about humanity, I have to admit that I hate everything about the 40 days of dating project.  EVERYTHING.

My Bias:  they’re not writers and while in many ways they don’t claim to be (after all this project is really just a bunch of repetitive forms or diary entries filled out for the internet to see), but I think we all know that along with their new Hollywood agent, they’re hoping for (planning on) a book deal and likely have been from the beginning.  And while I get that sometimes non-writers can author a book and it can actually be interesting (because they themselves are so interesting) that doesn’t really apply here.  These are two designers narcissistic assholes who are trying to become real housewives of worthlessness type famous.  Finally, while I don’t necessarily begrudge anyone taking their opportunity to become rich and famous, I just can’t fucking stand people who do it on a lie (and their lie is that this whole thing isn’t a big fucking act put on by two not great people).  Show me heart and I’ll respect you, show me your ass and call it your heart and I’ll hate you forever.

So, For those of you who have been lucky enough not to be exposed to this fake-staged-irrelevant-insincere-bullshit, you’re lucky (and also, sorry because I’m about to ruin that by exposing you to it).

FortyDaysofDating.com

The basic premise of the “experiment” is that two people with opposite relationship issues (though I would actually argue they have the same one of being completely self-deluded), she falls too quickly, he has commitment issues, date each other for 40 days (with I guess the hope of curing their issues?)

I can’t stand when women say things like I fall in love easily or I just really give relationships my all because I know that in their fucked up heads they think these things are admirable.  They don’t get that by suggesting that the lust they feel is love that they completely devalue what love really is (and also…what is so awful about lust that people are always trying to make it into love?!?).  They don’t understand that by giving everything to a relationship that they don’t really understand what a relationship is, or what being a complete person is.  The funny thing is I have great respect for someone who can realize that they’ve got issues and things to work on personally, but pretending the issue that you face is that you’re just so goddamn sweet and nice and caring rather than that you are totally out of touch with who you are as a person is something I just can’t get on board with.

I also can’t stand guys who think they’re nice but are really just some cross between a total fucking baby and just dumb as shit.  This is the kind of nice guy who thinks he’s protecting your feelings by constantly saying that he doesn’t want to lead you on and that he’s damaged or something rather than just spitting out the truth which is that he doesn’t like you as much as you want him to.  I find this completely insane that a guy could think this is protecting a girl somehow, but it’s totally common so there ya go.  The thing is though, if he actually just said the words, something like look, I like you this amount, that is all I’ll like you, if you want to continue to hang out I can do that but my feelings won’t change.  Then, the girl could decide, is she okay with said amount of liking?  If yes, she stays.  If no, she goes.  Either way, she made a decision based on all the information.  Sure, she might have hurt feelings (I know I personally can’t believe anyone doesn’t think I’m the most interesting woman in the world but here’s what, SHE WILL GET THE FUCK OVER IT, I promise).  And the upside is she won’t have spent weeks obsessing over whether or not you really like her because here’s what…that obsessing…that detective work and mind-reading is the very thing that makes her hurt and later hate you.

Anyway, that’s who this project is about.  The girl who devalues love and the man-child who can’t rip a bandaid.

Detour:  Have you ever had a friend who seems to be involved in all kinds of drama and yet tells you that they hate drama?  Yeah, they’re lying.  They fucking love drama.  Sure, no one likes negative things and fighting and feeling upset…obviously.  But drama comes with adrenaline and intrigue and it’s something to do, and more often than not feeds the ego…AND THAT’S WHAT YOUR FRIEND LIKES.  And here’s the thing of the thing, you can always get out of the drama.  There’s always a way.  Just get out.  If you don’t like it just get out.  Get out.  GET OUT.  JUST FUCKING GET OUT!!!

That’s what reading this stupid experiment feels like though – two people complaining about a bunch of things they could EASILY fix (like easy bake oven easy, like me with a super smart football player easy, you get the idea).

And you’re probably thinking – still though, why so upset?

And here’s why:  I hate this project and these people for the same reason I hate the majority of reality television – because it’s pretending to be real, to be honest, to be about exposing some sort of truth about human relationships rather than just some vain-attention-getting-grabber-wheel-of-people-who-aren’t-worth-the-attention.  It’s fucking human poison and I hate everything about it.

Now, before you go well hey, isn’t that what you’re doing here?  Let me explain.

I commend people who bare their souls and get book deals (even if they’ll only ever be authors and not writers, I love a good celebrity biography as much as the next guy).

I think it’s great to try experiments with your life, to go on adventures, to seek opportunities and when they arrive to take them completely.

I applaud those that are innovative, fresh, willing to be embarrassed, take risks, etc.

But if you’re going to sell me lemonade, you can’t fucking make it out apples.  When you call something the truth, it has to actually BE the truth.  (okay well it doesn’t, I mean you can do whatever you want, free country and all that, but if you don’t want me not to hate you, if you want me not to think that you’re poisoning the hearts and minds of the easily swayed with your bullshit agenda and disingenuous attempts to bare your heart, then you have to actually do it with the truth).

Because that’s really what’s at the heart of why I despise these two and this project.  While I hate to infantilize people, there are hundreds (possibly of thousands) of people who actually believe fairy tale nonsense (and love this project) and don’t see the stupidity that is its participants (stupid in certain ways only because as much as I dislike them, so many more do not and think they’re great and I would bet a fortune that they have an agent and a book deal within the month if not already).  I feel like there are real people, who want to know real things about dating (and how to be happier with dating and more emotionally sound with their dating choices) and for those people, I blog, and for those people, I hate this project on behalf of.

 

Because a regular reader, might not see that this guy is such a douchebag, they might not see that he strings her along on purpose and for his ego, that he’s a fucking childlike crybaby, that when he says he was being “playful and funny” that he was actually just being boring and tedious (and that he’s a part of that whole epidemic of men who think they can just say that they have a good sense of humor and then they do, that you don’t have to be witty or intelligent to be funny, this guy is spreading that like wildfire).

He’s the guy who worries about words.  Who thinks labels are what make a relationship and that it’s his job to protect others (under the assumption that he’s just so fucking unbelievably amazing that were he to reject someone they might not make it through the day).  And yet, spends the whole 40 days apparently unable to figure out how he feels about someone.  Is it really that hard to figure out your feelings?

For example, I can love someone and yet also know that I don’t want a committed long distance relationship.  I feel a thing, I think a thing through, I figure a thing out.  Why does this guy struggle so?  Is it possible that perhaps he likes the power of lording it over the poor half-wit that is his female counterpart (and for reference I think they’re both half-wits so this isn’t a gender thing)?

Because a regular reader, might not see her for the complaining child that she is.  (how, btw, can people manage to be super successful and yet totally fucking ridiculous?!!).  Why would you start a project like this when you’ve recently developed a debilitating case of migraines (that get worse with stress, stress like trying to get famous on the internet)?  She’s the girl who stiff upper lips her way through dinner pretending she’s not in pain (all the while acting like a totally aloof asshole who barely wants to be there).

It’s this bullshit martyr act that drives me insane.  (these are examples and didn’t really happen in the project) – She’s the girl who comes to your birthday party and then throws up on everything because she had the flu and she thinks she’s a super great friend who did this great thing for you, except you’re like bitch, why didn’t you just stay home, I can live without you at my birthday and now not only have you made yourself the fucking princess-centre-of-attention but you’ve barfed on everything and ruined my party.  She’s the girl who cleans up at the party before it’s over, thinking to herself oh look at me, such a good little homemaker when what she’s really doing is being rude to all the guests and hey! bitch I was still drinking out of that cup and did you throw out the piece of cake I was saving!?!?

 

I could go on and on but I think you all get the picture.  Everything about the 40 days of dating is unloveable, including the participants.  She’s the sweetie-try-hard who’s not actually sweet and he’s the nice-interesting-playboy who’s neither interesting nor nice (nor really a playboy).

The whole thing is just so fucking insincere and out of touch and I can’t fucking stand it.

 

They’re the Spencer Pratts of fake vulnerability, the Tap Out shirts of dating, the Ed Hardy of sexual honesty.

 

And one final note, if you spend 5 sentences describing the meal you ate, and a 3 word phrase to say we had sexeither the sex is fake or the project’s integrity is.

 

In their defense:  The typography was kind of cool.  Also, I’m aware I’m only seeing two sides of the story (and yes, a story can have more than two sides, particularly because they are confined to filling out a daily questionaire rather than possibly going off with their own writing to explain things more clearly).  Also, the one thing that is actually neat about the whole project is something I’ve always kind of wished for…having more than one side.  While I always try to write honestly and accurately about my affairs, we can never truly know what the men were thinking then or now because they aren’t able to write about it (well technically I would publish it if they wanted to be that’s not really an easy thing to make happen).  So, on that front, I commend them.

 

Online Dating: Hot Tits and Other Boob Mistakes

Boobs

 

The messages.  They flood in.  Like poetry.  Heart crushing.  Mind-numbing.  Pure drivel.

One giddy gentleman informs me

oo my god i like it big boobs i want to watch your boobs a day why not

 

Another lusty lad lets me know

amazing big lovely great boooooooooooooooooooobs i love them badly.

 

Then it’s Milk Man Mike talking dairy to me

wow waking up to see your jugs in the morning amazing

 

And let’s not forget the chap who chooses to see me for my character

with your cleavage and pretty face you are sooooooooo amazing!!!!

 

And don’t even get me started on the numerous Hot Tits and the one guy who simply messaged with

Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooobs

And I shit you not…the o’s took up two whole lines.

 

And the thing of the thing is.  I just don’t fucking get it.  What is the goal here?

 

Are they trying to flirt with me?

Is this a form of internet tourettes?

Are they drunk and cruising the net?

Is this a test?

 

Dear Boys,

Wrong.  You’re wrong.  You’re just fucking doing it wrong.  No girl ever, LIKE EVER reads this type of useless message and thinks fuck yeah, I want this dude.  No seriously.  NEVER.  And the thing is I kind of think you already know this.  Which makes me wonder what the fuck you’re doing?  Unfortunately none of the scenarios I can come up with in my head make you come off well.  They all sort of just end with…boys…are fucking idiots.  And so far that’s all anybody has offered when I ask them this question that plagues me so.

 

They’re idiots.

 

Boys are stupid.

 

Guys are lazy.

 

They’re just bored.

 

Only.  urgh.  um.  is this excuse actually good enough for anyone?  We’re part of a species that turned wind into energy and walked on the moon.  We write poetry and cure diseases.  We found a way to put planes in the sky and read entire books on our phones.  And you’re telling me I’m just supposed to accept it as a fact that the average guy doesn’t know that contacting a woman stranger to tell her of the positive impression her tits make upon him is neither an uplifting compliment nor a means to his probable sexual/ emotional/ companionship end?  I won’t accept this.  And neither should you.

And I’m fairly certain that the majority of these boys are not sitting home alone every moment of the day.  I know them.  You know them.  Hell some of them are probably even your friends (though I’m looking at you here, fellas, because I’m pretty sure dudes who say shit like this aren’t big with the ‘female crowd’).  So here’s what I think.  You should expect more from your friends.  You should expect more from people in general.

 

Think it through.

 

Put some thought into it.

 

Take a moment and work it out.

 

These should be the slogans of our generation.  We’re an intelligent fucking people, you know.  And I think it’s high time we all expected more from our societies.  So fellas, tell your friends and ladies, the next time a guy messages you with bullshit like this, respond with a link to this post (or another from the blog depending on his particular offense) because that’s what I’m going to do.  From now on, every boy who contacts me with messages like this will be getting a response back.  One that calmly and kindly explains just precisely why his approach is so so wrong.

The Rules According to SSDated

 

A Dating Rulebook

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he sheer brilliance of it.  In theory,  I mean, can you imagine?  If there was a Rule Book for romance.?  A manual of mating.  A chart of courtship.  A pamphlet for partnering.  A fucking Dictionary to Dating.

Can you imagine the time you would save.  Instead of trying to decipher the difference between casual sex and hanging out or what each of those fucking body type selections actually mean, you could be out doing things??  I bet you would have enough time to cure cancer.  Or at least raise a couple bucks towards the cause.  Maybe sign up for a walk or two.  Grow a ‘stache.  Either way.  You’d have some time on your hands, I swear.  Especially you ladies.  Because while I can’t speak for men.  I know us chicks waste a gallon of time swimming around in the unclear waters of dating.  And those muggy waters are a serious pain in my ass.  Seriously.  And it’s not the spending of time that bothers me.  It the unecessariness of it all that drives me batshit crazy.  Bat.  Shit.  Crazy.

And thus, I bring you THE RULES.  That’s right.  I’m taking it on.  The task of clarifying dating.  er.  well.  Online Dating.  I’m not a wizard after all.  Kidding.  I’m totally a wizard!  But nonetheless I still can’t take on everything related to dating in one fell swoop.  So we’re going to start with online dating and go from there.

And you may have noticed in the title…that SSDated substitutes for the word RIGHT.  And though there’s always room for new knowledge, ways of thinking and general improvement; I think we can safely assume if I didn’t think I was right about this stuff, I wouldn’t be writing it.  But that’s almost not even the most important part.  Because.  And here I’m about to get a little saussy* with it, being that I’m such a cunning linguist* (insert additional-super-nerdy-linguistics-philosophy-critical-theory-jokes here).  The thing of the thing is this:

 

A means A.       B means B.       A does not mean B. 

 

A = A           B = B          A ≠ B

It doesn’t matter what means so much as that we can recognize it as different from B.  And dating terminology and discussion is like that.  It’s not that it intrinsically matters what hanging out means so much as that we can differentiate it from anything else.

So assuming I haven’t lost you with my nerdy approach.  Stay tuned for a series of posts where we can finally get to the bottom of what everything means.  And from there we can build our Utopian dating site world.  Okay.  So that might not actually happen.  But.  But?!?!  Maybe we’ll start a something.  Perhaps become the Wikipedia of wooing.  The Urban Dictionary of unsuccessful dating.  er.  wait.  that one doesn’t quite work.  But either way.  You get the idea.  In 200 years, they’ll talk about me.  SSDated.  The Samuel Johnson** of Sexy Jokes.  The Jimmy Wales*** of jutting…er…okay I’m all out of awesome alliteration.

 

The Rules:  More coming Soon

The Rules According to SSDated:  What is My Online Dating Body Type?

The Rules According to SSDated:

 

*Ferdinand de Saussure, French Linguist

**Samuel Johnson wrote the first dictionary, in English

***Jimmy Wales created Wikipedia, according to Wikipedia

Dear Boys, You’ll Never Get a Mile if You Lie About an Inch

Is it okay to lie on a dating profile?

Rules of Online Dating

Is it okay to lie in an online dating profile?

 

Online Dating…it’s a tricky bitch.  There are few very certainties that all people can agree on.

Some want to meet right away while others want weeks of messages and texting and phone calls before they’re ready for a public appearance.  And then there are others who fall somewhere in the middle.

Some think your profile should reveal all your specialties and idiosyncrasies (in order to find a good match) while others think your profile should acknowledge the bare minimum of information required (saving the rest to be discovered during the dating phase).

And the truth is in dating as in relationships, there’s a lot of wiggle room and everybody can make an argument for wanting something different. However, I think it’s safe to say that nobody, ever, is hoping to be duped.  In fact, deception might be one of the single most upsetting occurrences in dating.

Has deception ever been a revered quality in a person?  Does anyone sit at home, looking at online dating profiles, and think to themselves…I sure hope this guy, who I’ve been messaging with back and forth, turns out to be someone completely different…I mean it would be down right boring if I made an educated selection about the kind of physical appearance I find attractive and the kind of personality I feel I’d mesh well with…and the person that showed us was actually like that!!  La-Ame!

So you have to wonder.  Why do people do it??  Why do people lie in their dating profiles??  Or as I’m sure they’ve rationalized it… fudge the truth.  And it’s not a gender thing because both women and men do it.  Albeit misguided fools, but both men and women nonetheless.  I apologize if the use of the word fool seems too harsh for anybody’s delicate sensibility but the truth is, if you’re actively being dishonest in life…honestly…I generally fucking can’t stand you.  Like, think you make the world a worse place.  As in, wonder where your parents fucked up.  Wonder how you got to be so awful.  Wonder why you deserve any happiness at all in this life when you’re actively sucking joy from the world of others.

But.  Like the judgmental person that I am, who though quick to judge is also quick to feel empathy and change my mind, I also feel a sadness.  Like, where did your life go wrong that you feel you have to make up who you are.  As in, why do you feel so less than that you’re writing a fiction of who you want to become rather than living the life that is yours.  How did you get to the point where you didn’t feel that you were enough.  Just you.  Enough.  And that’s more the person I write this for.  That misguided fool.  Who needs a helping hand.  Even if they don’t know it yet.

So before I get further into the recesses of just exactly why lying in your dating profile is so absolutely fucking ridiculous and idiotic (I mean above and beyond the simple fact lying is bullshit)…I want to mention the lie that I’ve found to be the most prevalent in my adventures so far.

 

Liar, Liar, Shoes With Lifts On Fire

 

Men lie up.  The more experience I have with online dating and the more I talk about it with other people the more I learn how astoundingly prevalent lying about one’s height is for guys.  Apparently the norm is something like adding 2 inches if you’re under 5’10 (if you’re above 5’10 it seems you’re less likely to bother though I still hear of its occurrence and if you’re 6’0 and over apparently you’re all in the clear…for this).

Women lie down.  Now unfortunately this is just anecdotal for me.  I’ve yet to meet a girl who lied about her height, though I’ve had people tell me it happens…and the logic (using that term loosely) is there…if a short guy would lie up, a tall girl might lie down.  So it could very well be possible, who knows.

But here’s the thing of the thing.  Boys.  When you lie about your height, you’re causing numerous problems for yourself.  Height isn’t everything.  Even for someone like me…who has a huge complex about the guy being tall because I’m big and otherwise I feel like the due and then nobody wins…has been known to have it not be any kind of deterrent.  After all…some of the best sex I’ve ever had was with a dude who was 5’9 (and I’m 5’7 so that’s pretty close).  But when you lie.  When you pretend to be something you’re not?!?!  Well fuck.  That says a few things to me.  And none of them are good.  It says that you:

a.  Think I’m an idiot

b.  Think I’m easily duped.  (that sounds a bit like a. but I think the additional aspect worth mentioning is that you think I’m naive and can be taken advantage of…and also that you’re the kind of person who would try to take advantage of another)

c.  Think that I have such low standards as to date a blatantly dishonest person

d.  Think very poorly of yourself and nobody wants to date someone with low self-esteem

 

So what I don’t get is why guys do it.  Is it a bit of the Bird Seed Theory and that you’re essentially throwing so much bird seed that you figure even if you hit 6 birds who notice you lied that there will be 1 bird who never notices and thus you get away with murder…the murder of honesty?  Is that the goal?  *puts head down on desk and weeps for humanity* I mean holy shit.  That’s some vaguely pathetic slightly pathological shit.  Eeek.  Ick.  Uck.  Gross.

That being said…I’d love to hear from anybody who ever fudges the truth in their online dating profile.  Whether about height or something else.  I promise to offer a one-time experience of immunity from judgement (though you should know I’ll be pretending you’ve seen the error of your ways and from here on out will be presenting yourself honestly)…either that or make a good argument (and prepare for a rebuttal) about why you think dishonesty is okay.

 

Dating the World a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time