I’ll admit I’ve looked into the online dating thing…

Alright, alright, I’ll admit to some looking into the online dating thing again.  I poked around at it a few years ago and was absolutely traumatized by one online stalker in particular, so I’ve left it alone.

But time has passed and surely there are some normal people out there, right? RIGHT?!?

I’ve browsed some profiles, read some ads on different sites, and I’m mostly just perplexed by the whole damn thing.  Why do some men feel it’s a good idea to take pictures o’ their weenies to post with their personal ads?  It’s never been a dating criteria of mine in the past.  “Oh, thanks for offering to set me up with Brad, Sally.  He sounds super, but…  Do you have a photo of his package I could check out before I commit to dinner?”

Frankly, gents, if I could lay it on the line for you, your private package is the least of our worries when we womenfolk are checking you out.  We want to know if you have a criminal record, and we want to know if you have a real job that you go to with some kind of regularity.  We want to know if you still live with your mom 7 years after your divorce.  We want to know if you listen to Journey on a daily basis–it could be a dealbreaker.  We want to know if you are still married and does your wife know you’re on match.com?  Once we know all those things and still more, only then do we really give a crap about your package…and even then, we really only care if your package is clean and well-maintained with a doctor’s note, and if you know what to do with all that stuff you’ve got.  We don’t need to see a photo of it.  REALLY we don’t.

I was randomly scoping out craigslist.com and found that a man has posted that he would like to astral project into a nice Asheville woman’s boudoir to have, umm, astral relations…and a snack.  Nevermind the relations thing, how the heck do you get a snack on the astral plane?  If I knew refreshments were being served, I’d be out of body all the frickin’ time noshing on velvet sin truffles from the Chocolate Fetish.

I don’t know if I need a date…or if I just need a good out of body snack.

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