Hey Dumbfuck!

As if internet dating isn’t bad enough as it is, tonight I got this message:

Classy as fuck

Classy as fuck

I mean REALLY dude?!?! Cuz every lady likes to hear, ‘Hey, can I have your hot friend’s number?’ I mean, I guess the guy gets credit for having basketball sized balls? Class act, that one.

So I’m taking suggestions on how to write back. What would you write back??

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Mystery Texter Magnet

So. While I was in England, there was a snafu with Verizon and I ended up having to get a new number. With it, has come endless collection agency calls, horrible auto-dialing telemarketing calls and a few interesting texts. Evidently my number belonged to a dude named Aaron. He seems like a popular guy.

One day, months ago, I get a text from one of Aaron’s buddies. No explanation, just these pics
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Now, I’m sure a normal person would respond something like: ‘hey dude, this isn’t Aaron anymore, and that’s a lot of firepower, lose my number.’ Me? of course not. I have to egg him on.

I then begin to respond, pretending that I’m Aaron. I tell him the guns are bitchin.

He sends this:
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And then, this:
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Woah buddy! Is that a coyote?!?! Yes. Yes it is. He tells me how proud he is of how far away he was when he shot Wile E. Coyote.
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See?! Look at that smile! he is one proud dude,
My response was literally the only one of could think of:
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He never responded. Weird.

Dating Bender

Someone asked my why I’m on dating sites. The answer is that I know people here in Portland, but they all have kids/are busy/are couples/are cooler than me. Also, I’m broke. Often times on dates guys will buy me food. Yeah. I’m a dick. Glad we got that out of the way.

As usual, internet dating is a time suck. Sometimes it is depressing, sometimes it is exciting, sometimes it is just horribly sad. Nonetheless, I have weaseled out some seemingly vaguely normal, moderately attractive men to go on dates with. Actually, a lot of dates. A LOT of first (and final) dates. Some of them are boring, some of them are horrible, all are….odd.

So. First one? You know how in movies blind dates wear a red rose or something so you can tell which person you are meeting? Well, I did that. But instead, I wore a beard. Like a serious beard.

Date-beard

It was itchy. And oddly warming. Seriously. It was a bit chilly, so I just wrapped the ends around my neck, like a scarf. I heart beard. So did my date. Sadly, I did not ‘heart’ date back. He was sweet….which is never a good thing for a girl to say about a dude unless it is immediately followed by hot, or sexy, interesting or….rich? (see? I’m an asshole).

So, on to the next one. This guy was hot. And showed up to the date stoned. And smoked. And wouldn’t (couldn’t?) make eye contact. Right.

Next.

A date to Home Depot. For any other girl, this would be lame and horrible. For me? Actually kinda cool. We had a post-Depot meal where we talked about books and were having a blast when he told me he is moving to Norway in two days to be with a girl. Right again.

Next.

This guy asks me out for an afternoon drink. He texts to say he is running late. Three hours later he is going to be even later (don’t worry, I wasn’t waiting at the bar or anything, I was going about my business.) I finally tell him, no thanks, I’m gonna bail. His response (and this is a direct quote): “Well…disappointing. I can’t help the delays, I’m a very busy man.” But here is the thing; he is in the industry of the business I’m trying to put together. So I selfishly really wanted to pick his brain. We finally meet up for a drink. I pick his brain as much as I possible can whilst sitting through the most arrogant statements I’ve heard in a while. Among them there were some gems like:

“I am a really skilled lover”

“I see a very bright future for the two of us”

“I would make make you a really good boyfriend. Although in truth, I’ve never had a relationship for longer than 2 months”

“If you’re lucky, I’ll take you camping. Then we can have sex in a tent. Unless you are on your rag, then you have to sleep in your own tent in case there are bears.”

Yeah.

Innappropriate Nannying

As my nannying gig comes to an end in less than a month, I’ve taken a look back and realized I might not be the best at this job. I make some…let’s say…interesting decisions as to how to entertain myself and the girls. Some highlights:

I introduced Grace to gangsta life.

Convincing Imogen that "Try and Bite the Nanny's Foot While On the Trampoline" is a legitimate and fun game.

Midget tossing

Feeding the children to inanimate objects

Dressing Imogen as the world's youngest 'Pretty Woman'

Getting Grace addicted to nickel slots...

Teaching Grace the fine art of Planking

Conclusion: If you have children, you might want to think twice about letting me care for them. At the very least, they’ll be subjected to being featured in this sadly meandering blog.

 

UPDATE:

After posting this, I realized this trend might have been going on for a while… a few more from friend’s kids around the world:

Drawing mustaches on my niece and nephews to try to sneak them in bars.

Signing Sofie up to Portland's underground Monkey Fighting Ring.

I like you better on Match

My wonderful friend Jordi (Writer, Comedienne, Supermom, my Hero) posted the gem below. It is by Jordi’s friend, Livia Scott. It was so fucking spot on when it comes to internet dating also, that I had to share.

I have seriously been dickteased by guys that seem witty, funny, interesting, literate. Only to find out that they are NONE of those sexy things. And the pics they put on? No dude, that was 6 years and 50 pounds ago.

Granted, I have this pic up:

Oh you know...3 years and a few lbs ago

I show up to dates looking more like this.

Internet dating blueballs all around, I guess.

Armageddon Prep

(Yo, this post is bloody. Just a warning.)

I have had the most amazing, random, hilarious, fun Christmas/New Years in England this year. It started off with a bang. Gorilla suits are the new snuggie. And don’t forget about the ass-crack of dawn fish market trip and fun times with Elf. Basically I didn’t think it could get better. Man was I wrong.

On Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) the only tradition is to eat leftovers and shop, as far as I can tell. My buddy Ben (previously starred here as The Elf) and I celebrated a tad different. Rob went hunting with some people from the village and they shot some pheasants and squirrels. but no one wanted the squirrels. Why in gods name would you shoot it then?!?!? GRRRR. Ben and I simply couldn’t let it go to waste.

Ben looked up how to skin a squirrel on Youtube and we followed the Good Sarge’s instructions:

Our victums, patiently waiting.

Ben seemed appropriately dressed for the occasion.

Ben is one denim jacket away from a Canadian tuxedo, even though we are in the Englsh Countryside...

Seriously, I was so stoked to have a go, I could barely wait for my turn. Sadly, the little guys were a little …stiff. I couldn’t wait for them to relax. So I took matters into my own hands.

I gently massaged the squirrel whilst Ben sang whale songs. I think it worked to get the furry little thing to loosen up.

And then I got down to business. That cute woodland creature was going DOWN.

Yes, I am fucking stoked to rip the skin off a rodent.

Oh shit. Roadblock. I had NO problem doing anything to the squirrel. But cut off his balls?!?!?!!??!? It took me a bit to work up to that one. There was a fair amount of wincing.

I've done it!!! (that crazed look in my eyes? That's the taste of blood.)

*insert comment here

So, the moral of this story is that if/when Armageddon comes, all you bitches will be beggin me to come live in your barricaded compound so I can feed you all with my mad Squirrel slaughtering skills. Just sayin.

Unconventional Christmas

This year was a bit odd for me during Christmas. I haven’t been home for the holidays in years and usually I’m ok with that. This year, I missed family a ton and didn’t know how to face Christmas this year. Luckily I have amazing friends here and they made it amazing and wonderful.

Highlights include:

Getting up at 3:30 Christmas eve morning and driving an hour to London with Michelle in order t be there at the opening bell at 5. My fishmonger skills turned out handy at Billingsgate Market. We came home with lobster, crab, prawns, seabass, squid, and oysters. over 20 pounds of seafood.

Already bustling at 5 on Christmas Eve morning.

Michelle was a teeeeny bit excited.

It was a madhouse.

I had to talk her down from buying the whole lot.

The next thing I learned is that most Brits take the opportunity on Christmas Eve to go to the pub. So, not wanting to feel out of place, of Ben and I went to the pub. You know, the local pub I love? But of course we couldn’t go without wearing some horrible sweaters.

We met some new friends that were also in the spirit.

And then for the actual big day, Ben and I went to one of his friends’ houses in London. It was gorgeous. We all dressed absurdly. Ben won, though.

Not pictured: pointy, curved elf shoes with bells on the toes.

Christmas Climax.

Merry Christmas to all my my family and friends around this beautiful world.