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.

Vancouver Dating Blog: Drowning in a Sea of Idiocy

A picture is worth a thousand words


[dropcap]I[/dropcap] want to be going out on dates.  Lots of dates.  I want to be having fun.  Lots of fun.  Instead I find myself in a perpetual cycle of deflecting boys too stupid to understand that their interests are best served by adhering to normal standards of social protocol or boys who are boring.

I want to be open and inviting, optimistic and sunshiney.  But the truth is.  The truth is…the truth is.  I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of idiocy.  There, I said it.  I know.  I’m awful.  I said I would accept a date from any boy willing to ask me out and though technically technically I’ve been able to adhere to that, I can’t claim that I’ve been responding to the messages of any boy willing to talk to me on Plenty of Fish.

They say a picture is a worth a thousand words, but apparently to the boys on POF, mine are barely worth a sentence.  This, of course, is not to be confused with how I see myself.  And just in case you don’t believe me.  In case you’re thinking it can’t be that bad.  And I bet she’s super judgmental and demands paragraphs of uniquely crafted genius.  And I bet she’s exaggerating.  Here are the last five messages I have received:

oh my god gorgeous!

Not bad if you appreciate its complimentary nature, that being said it doesn’t leave an open space for a lot of conversation.  Mostly the best I can reply with is thank you and then go into an awkward question.  All of which would be fine if this genius hadn’t sent me at least 5 initial messages in the last year-and-a-half-ish.  And through responding, one time, the only thing I ever learned about this Barely-functioning-Bobby was that I couldn’t possibly go out with someone who answered every question with one words answers and eloquent responses to my wit like hah :):):) Blargh.  Pass.  

omg i still want you!!!

This gem, again, does have value in its essence as a compliment to my attractiveness but still.  I mean.  Why is he yelling?  And How am I supposed to respond to this?  And excluding the actual message itself, this charmer is a culmination of strikes which on their own are not disqualifiers but stacked up as they are for him and I just can’t climb aboard so to speak.  He’s claiming 39 (though to be honest, I would bet is stretching the truth that is an age closer to 45), he’s only 5’9 (I’m 5’7…and chubby), he’s not funny, interesting or eloquent in his profile, his message is weak and he’s yet another that goes in the group of repeat offender having sent at least 3 initial messages in the last year or so.  Blargh.  Pass.

Lovely knobs sexy 😉 they mesmerized me

On the one hand I’m pleased, obviously my wizard skills are finally starting to churn out results and I have a new skill to add to my resume.  On the other hand, this makes me hurt in my smart place.  I want to tear my hair out.  I want to become asexual.  I want to move far away and live in a cabin, and spend the rest of my life writing in relative obscurity, preferably a cabin with a radio, whose knobs I can turn.  Blargh.  Pass.


That’s all it says.  And seriously.  How am I supposed to respond to this?  And if I can manage to ignore the triple xxx’s in the spelling of Sexxxy there’s not even any punctuation to help me solve this mystery.  Is this a proclamation of the highest order?  Is he flirting?  Did he just want to let me know?  Is this some form of internet Tourettes?  Is he drunk?  Is this a mating call?  Is this a question I’m supposed to answer?  And as I type up this blog post I’m vaguely alarmed at how many repeat buyers I get trying to come to my open house.  This is yet another fella who either finds me so unremarkable that he never remembers my face 20 seconds after its disappeared from his vision or perhaps thinks he can beat down my resolve to not date morons.  Blargh.  Pass.

And finally there was the message that started off innocently (though tediously) enough with

hey cutie how are you doing

I checked his profile.  He’s 22.  I’m perplexed but haven’t I been talking about how it’s good to be open and all the bullshit and so I decide to message back.  Because after all, I’m human, he’s a babe, and well, maybe I would be willing to teach a youngbuck a thing or two.  Needless to say the conversation didn’t head in the direction of science or humor or even what are you studying?  So what exactly did this Juvenile Joey want from me?  Why boob pics of course.

im goood thanksss! your gorgeous!… kindaa boredd we shouldd sendd eachother some bodyshotss! wouldn’t mind seein those nice big tits!.. u wont be dissapointed i got the body of a greeeek god! lol

Uh…what’s with all the extra letters.  Is this what the kids in elementary school are doing these days.  Blargh.  That being said, I couldn’t help responding.  Laying a little of my logic on this lad.  I messaged back haha well you got balls kid I’ll give you that…but I’ll have to pass…plus if I wanted to see dick pics…I’d just google some.

hahaha better when its someone ur really talkinggg too…commmon u only live once misewell have someee fun… i bettt youuu couldnttt even handleee me 😉 ahahaha

I think the world is a dumber place for having experienced that message.  misewell?  Le sigh.  This makes me hurt in my lady lexicon places.  Reading a menu would be profound after my experiences with these Major Morons of Messages.  And before everyone gets all up in arms with all kinds of derogatory comments about how this is online dating and plenty of fish is full of plenty of fools let’s all remember, the guys of online dating are the same guys wandering our fair streets, working jobs, and supposedly functioning in our fair society everyday.  Which is kind of terrifying, no?


Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time