I can’t make this stuff up

This is the post excerpt.


I should start with a little about me and how I wound up with a blog about the horrible messages, weird ass dates and men that are more like little boys.  Don’t get me wrong, I like men. A lot. I have guys friends who I love and would do anything for. And I’ve had some great relationships and an ok marriage at one point.

I’m speaking more about the men my age or older that don’t have their shit together, are still looking for a hook-up or a side chick.  What happened to the gentlemen? The ones that don’t ask my cup size right away, hold open a door and ask how my day was? Those are the men I miss and wish there was more of.

Join me, won’t you? Let me entertain you.




Fresh fish 

Well, wasn’t this lovely to wake up to at 3:30 this morning?  Because I so wanna get with a black dot… I may just string him along just to see how stupid he is. 

You want me to do what? 

So once in a while I go on those dating sites just to see what’s out there. Because I’m obviously an idiot who thinks that there’s a good man on one of them. ( I’m actually pretty smart but I digress) 
Now I know someone like say David Tennant, Cat Dennings, or Antonio Banderas are a little out of my league but I’m pretty awesome. So I tend to have standards in regards to manners, intelligence and personality. But I like to give things a shot every once in awhile. Usually to remind me that being alone isn’t so bad.  
Enter Jason. He was polite, interesting to converse with and he was nice looking. We continued to chat for a few days. Pleasantries, tidbits about our lives and so on. We weren’t clicking like peas and carrots but he seemed nice enough that perhaps we could meet for coffee. He on the other hand had other things in mind.  
In one full swoop Jason managed to not only make me not want to date ever again but also grossed me out in disbelief. As most men ( not all men) are wont to do he brought up sex. Now, we’ve never met, never talked about a date and have only seen face pictures of each other. ( I tend to also send a full length fully clothed body shot because well I’m fat and sexy as fuck). He tried to be slick and ask me what I liked in a relationship. When I answered with the normal kind of things he kicked it up a notch. He asked what I liked sexual. Remember I have no clue who this dude is.  
When I gave my standard “Seriously?” He just flat out stated “So, will you pee on me after we have sex?” I…. wha… huh? What the…. Are you.. 

I couldn’t get a articulate sentence out. Every time I tried, I spluttered a few incoherent words that were more grunts. It’s like my mind went blind after seeing those words. Was I really seeing this? 
Now, I know that saying that your kink isn’t my kink and that’s ok. But this was so beyond anything I’ve ever been asked before that I just didn’t know what to say. After a few minutes he sent another message. “Too much?” Nah dude, what gave you that idea? I had to block him. Even if he didn’t ask about the whole taking a whiz on him I would have anyway. 
 Why do men think it’s ok just to put sex on the table? Don’t get me wrong, sex is awesome. I like it, eventually I’d like to have some again. But if you can’t engage in a conversation without it leave me out. If you find buying me a cup of coffee is too much for you while getting to know me don’t bother hitting me up.  
And that’s the foray into trying to date for this month. 

I need to stop swiping 

So I’m back! Things are back to somewhat normal. Found a great company in Midtown and started working there at the end of last month.  Still struggling with some bills I haven’t been able to pay yet but I’ll get there soon.  But that’s not what you’re here for so let’s get on with the show! 

I’m not sure if I like Tinder or just go there for the fun show.  Most of the men who swipe right for me don’t have the balls to say hi. Weird, right? They mostly seem like they’re looking for a new mom to take care of them.  

Case in point, Tim H. Tim was supposedly a clinical pathologist. He lived close to me and has a dog named Jake.  Supposedly.  Tim was away on business in Plattsburgh and wanted to text to get to know me.  That’s fine.  And talk we did.  Within 2 days I was his baby, sweet angel and a various number of other sickening sweet pet names.  I miss the cool ones like Torch or Dark Angel from men who took the time to get to know me.  But I digress…

Tim wanted to know where his share of my food was or when I was going to give him a massage.  I always came back with “a cup of coffee and get to know each other.”  When I told him I don’t do massages (I do) his reply was ” you will”. That pissed me off enough to stop texting him for a bit.   

After a couple of days texted me to say that he loved me and couldn’t wait to see me 😲. Why must I always find the creepy fuckers who are trying to scam me or think I’m desperate?  I replied that he was CCCRRREEEPPPPYYY and so not in love with me.  And that he was probably going to attempt to scam me and that wasn’t happening.  

And that was the last I heard of Tim. Tinder is seriously the best/worst hookup place.  That’s all it’s every going to be.  

 How they do it in France 

6 weeks after my breakup with The One I tried to get back out there and perhaps find someone to hangout with. I wasn’t ready for a relationship and was admittedly still very sad over the end of my last relationship.  But I felt I had to at least try to move on a bit.   

Meet Frederic. He is super smart (I love smart men).  He’s got his PHD and he’s from France ( keep that in mind) Frederic lives in Danbury and works at a pharmaceutical company.  Add to that he was on the cute side.  So after messaging back and forth for a couple of weeks I gave him my home number. Now to show you how monumental this is there are only 3 people have this number which includes my ex! No one calls my house unless shit is on fire or my mom.   

So Frederic suggested we have dinner at a nice Italian restaurant in a expensive little town half way between us.   And it was lovely. The conversation was lively and interesting. We spoke of his hometown in France and my longing to visit and do all the things tourists don’t do.  We moved to politics and art and living in America.  He was a gentleman in every way. At the end of the evening we shared a brief peck on the lips and parted ways.  He even texted me to make sure I got home ok.  

So when he suggested sushi in Danbury the next week I agree.  He was a nice guy and it was casual enough where I was comfortable.  I arrived early as usual ( you’ll notice that theme throughout my posts) and grabbed a table since I knew he worked in the area. He was a little late but no biggie.  Again, good conversations about hobbies and the like.  And then, stupid happened.  

We stood by our cars to say goodnight and he asked if I wanted to come back to his for a drink or a coffee. I politely declined citing work the next day and us not knowing each other well.  We chatted a bit more and then he asked again since he only lived 5 mins away.   Huh, well that’s fucking conveinent. I again declined. 

But I did kiss him.  I wanted to see, to know if there would be a reaction to someone other then The One. There wasn’t.  I knew there wouldn’t be. I just kept think how much I missed him and wanted it to be him kissing me. As this was all going through my head I felt something rub against me. Specifically against my boob.  

Now let me get a little..personal.   I don’t have huge boobs but they’re  kind of big.  Which means I need a good bra.  The bras that I buy have some padding.  Why they make them with padding I’ll never know. I have more than enough to fill in the cups just fine.  So for me to feel something rubbing against my boob it wouldn’t be accidental.  

I stepped back from him and gave him the look.  You ladies know the look. The “What the fuck just happened?”  look complete with one squinted eye and nostrils flared.  I flat out told him I didn’t appreciate what he did.   He tried to play it off as if it was an accident.  I know damn well it wasn’t due to the paragraph above. And then it got worse. When he tried to kiss me again he rubbed his junk on me!! What the actual fuck is going on I thought to myself! It’s like I’m in high school again. Only the boys were better behaved back then.   

As I stepped back I gave him a look of revulsion.  I couldn’t believe what just happened.   He again apologized and informed me that’s how things are done in France.  HUH? So in France they just act like animals?  I reminded Frenchie that this was America and it’s not acceptable to act like a horny little teenager. 

With that I slipped into my car and drove off.  The tears slipped down my face rapidly.  I had never been treated like that in my life.  I felt dirty and that I needed to scrub my body.  I managed to get lost on my way home because my head was done in. I cried for the loss of my ex.  I sobbed over the fact that he would have never treated me that way.  All of those feelings drove me to shower when I finally found my way home.   

When I was dried off and in clean pajamas I found a text from Frenchie. He apologized and basically said that we weren’t teenagers.   WHAT?  What what what?!!! So that gives you the leeway to treat me like a whore?  You think that your actions are ok because we’re older and single?  Or perhaps because briefly touched upon an adult topic that gave you the right to treat me like that? 

With my strength back in place after my crying jag and soothing shower I said the only words that came to mind. I told that piece of shite to fuck right off back to France and to never contact me again. I was a lady and not some whore that he must be used to dating.  

I was a little sad for a couple of weeks after. If this is what dating is like in your 40s I fear that I’ll be single for the rest of my life.  This date didn’t give birth to this blog per say but boy did it help start the seed to be planted. 

A little hiatus 

No hilarious posts about the men I come across while I’ve been job searching.  What guy wants to date someone who isn’t stable, am I right?   Taking drastic measures to make sure I keep a roof over my head and food on the table. I’ve had to swallow my pride and applied for aid.  Still waiting for a decision. Got denied unemployment and once I get my tax return I have to pay back my mother who was able to help some.  I want to work and feel like I’m contributing to the world again. 

If you’re feeling generous and want to donate to my Go Fund Me page here’s the link.  http://www.gofundme.com/376xry8  

I promise to bring laughter and joy back to the blog as soon as possible. 

Lotta dollars

When searching for Mr. Awesome (because no one is perfect)  I make sure to  let folks know that I’m a sapiophile. No, no perverts that’s not something dirty.  I just find intelligent men a complete turn on.  I want someone that will stimulate my mind first. I’m not a brainiac but I’m smart in my own right and can be quite loquacious at times.   

That apparently means I know a “lotta 3 dollar words”. So meet bbwlvrman. Not only does he seem to understand “3 dollar words” but he’s presumptuous and a lover of only BBWs.  Great, another dude with a fetish.  Sigh….

The Power of GPS

Richard and I started talking on OKCupid two weeks. Our discussions were general and nothing too intense.  We both loved 80s music and movies.  We spoke about our professions and lack of children which is awesome! (Kids don’t find me hysterical like adults do) 

He seems nice enough and complimented me a bunch which is always good.  So at the beginning of this week when he asked me to meet for coffee for today I said yes. We had some things in common and the conversations were really flowing.  So when we confirmed the time yesterday I thought we were set. Man was I wrong.  

I took a leisurely beautiful ride up to a coffee house that was between our two towns.  I’m always early so I sat in my car and listened to some music.   At about 10 mins before the time I went to send him a message that I was early and grabbbing a table.   Lo and behold I had a message that never came through.   At 1:29am he had sent me a message asking if we were still on for 4:00pm.   What the buh?  We talked about the time 3 times.   I sent Mr. I Can’t Tell Time a message advising him that he wasted my time and gas.  I wrote him off and headed home.  

30 mins later he sent me a message. He was almost there.  30 mins later…Now I could have been a bitch and let his sorry ass sit there.  He deserved it after pulling that bs.  He blamed it on directions. I’m sorry but that’s the worst lie ever.   In this day and age people my age and much older have smart phones when some sort of directional navigation thingie.  So I call bullshit.

He sent me numerous messages after that apologizing over and over asking me for a do over.  So you’re over a half an hour late because you forgot what time we were supposed to meet and left me hanging and you want me to give you another shot?   I’m sorry my man but I am a much better woman than that.