How some men go from relatively normal to creepy as fuck in 0.7 seconds in an email is rather impressive.

Hello. My name is Moses (Oh hi, Moses. Your parents must be religious to name you after a readily identifiable Biblical character, so how weird can you be, right?). I would like to get to know u better (Why, I’m flattered!). A little about myself: I’m 6’6″ tall, I’m very secure fancially and emotionally (Moses is having a few difficulties with spelling, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since he’s so tall. Maybe he’s not seeing the keyboard keys as well being so high up and all). I don’t need a lot of attention- no mama’s boy (Ah, glad he pointed that out. Ain’t nobody got time for a titty-baby). I think a women is Gods greatest gift to the world n deserve to be treated that way (Ah yes, references to God. Amen brother, preach on about treating us women as God intended!). let me paint a picture 4 u of what it’s like to be my woman (Your words are like a paintbrush. Show me your vision!): i want my woman to feel above all safe n secure when she’s with me (Alright, alright. He is a protective man. I like feeling safe. No Ray Rice up in here). I want her to know that she’s all that matters in the world when we r together (Aww yeah, that’s right. No undivided attention with Mr. Moses. Wait, what about when we’re not together, though?). I want her to b the envy of every women that sees her with me because of the way they c me treat her and the pedestal I hold her on (Oooh yeah, make those chicken heads green with envy! He’s so respectful and doting. Sounding better every second!). When I hold u in my arms I want u to escape every care n concern u have in the world to instantly fade away (Take away all the pain and hurt, baby). When I make love to u I want u to wish the moment would last a life time n that I would never leave ur side (Uh wait, what? Make love? Um, isn’t this a lil too soon to talk about?). I want u to think about me every minute ur not with (Hmm, every minute? You’re sounding a little overbearing, Moses. I’m an intellectual; I spend quite a bit of time thinking why I’ve never seen baby pigeons anywhere or when you choke a Smurf, what color does it turn?). I want to be in ur dreams (Damn, I can’t even be free of you when I’m asleep?). I don’t think like most men, I get my pleasure out of pleasing u (You may not be the same, but you sure do sound like the rest of them with this cheesy ass line). The more fulfilled u r the happier I am. I’m all about passion. I love to kiss n hold my women passionately. U see I want u to truly feel me not just sexually but emotionally; in the deepest part of ur soul I want to touch u (I’m not sure I’m OK with this. Have you never heard of personal space and boundaries? My soul is off limits, bro). I want u to feel like a queen n that no one can knock u off the thrown I provide for u emotionally n physically (Homophones aren’t Moses’ strong points either, I realize). My connection is definitely physical ( as u will certainly FILL me) but the emotional connection I want to have with u goes even further then that (Fill him? Is that code for pegging?). I’m honest and above all respectful although I can get into sexual role play if that’s ur thing. Lol (Nope, not my thing at all but thanks for being open-minded). Try me out n allow me to take u where you’ve never been before as we explore new experiences n feelings together (I’ve dated quite a bit, so I’ve probably felt everything possible. You’re a little late to my party, Moses). There is so much I could tell u but this site only allows me 2000 characters (There’s more???!). I’m much more interesting in person n over the phone. Please email me at if u like. Look forward to hearing from u soon.




Fanatical religious people usually rub me the wrong way for one reason or another. I suppose it’s the air of superiority that many of them exude, or the condemning attitude they have against others unlike them, or it could be how they spaz out when they do something against their doctrine. Actually, it’s all 3 that irk me and make me steer clear when I eventually identify them.

I remember meeting Altar Boy on my interview and again at orientation when I started grad school. He was very helpful and enthusiastic to show me the ropes, which I was quite thankful for. At the time he had a girlfriend, so I thought nothing of his checking up on me and invites to hang out. He would talk to me as a platonic friend, divulging in his relationship woes. His major issue was that his girlfriend was not a Catholic and did not share all his beliefs, so he felt a disconnect. Among the issues was the burgeoning guilt of premarital sex, which he attempted to abstain from whenever the power of his faith prevailed. Yeah, I imagine his girlfriend was not one happy camper when she wanted to bone but he insists on saying the rosary instead.


Inevitably, their love did not overcome the strain of religion and sexual frustration. Altar Boy began coming around more often and eventually our friendship became a little bit more than platonic. One fateful Friday evening, he invited me over for a home-cooked dinner. His baked tilapia left much to be desired as so was the “dessert” course.

Yes, I should have known better, but I wasn’t exactly looking for love. He’s cute and smart and nice enough. As a friend, he never imposed his religious beliefs on me, so everything was cool. One thing led to another that evening, and I didn’t use better judgment. I was just thinking, “Yay, I’m going to get some much needed action! Bow-chicka-bow-wow!” We just started to do the deed, and by “just started” I mean it wouldn’t stand up in court because I wasn’t sure if it was even sex, when he tells me, “I shouldn’t be doing this.” Yup, nothing like a crushing whack to the libido to hear a guy who’s on top of you utter those words. He quickly rolled over and started crying. The dude started CRYING and mumbling, “This is so against my religion. I shouldn’t be doing this, but you’re just so attractive and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, but this is wrong.” Erm no, Altar Boy; I’m the one who should be sorry for tempting you with all my sexiness and making you commit that lascivious sin.

That has got to be the most awkward moment in my adult sexual life. There I was, literally patting his shoulder and telling him it’s alright, that Jesus still loves him and that he’s still a good person (is that what I’m supposed to say, or does that sound mockingly patronizing?). At the time, I wasn’t annoyed because he was my friend and a friend in distress at that; but now in retrospect, I’m thinking what the hell kind of pussy cries naked in fetal position during sex (actually, any time during sexy play for that matter)?!


Yeah, so now do you see why I avoid people who have staunch religious beliefs? It’s because they can make situations fucking awkward.


Women, how many times have you heard men complain about us “playing games” and all they ask for is transparency? Yeah well, some can’t handle the truth despite asking for it.

Short Stack initiated contact on OKCupid, and our first conversation went rather well even though he’s the type of guy I’m not normally attracted to (e.g. artist, has shirtless photos on profile, grammar errors, and stands 5’4… that’s 5 feet and 4 inches in total vertical height). See? I’m not always quick to write off a guy and can step out of my comfort zone every now and again!

After a few online conversations, we decided to take it to the next level: texting. In retrospect, this was the beginning of the end. Every day, Short Stack started with a “Good morning, beautiful!”, which is totally fine, but then came the relentless selfies. Every day at least once a day, he would send me a photo of essentially the same thing: him wearing his brown jacket, head cocked to the side, slight half-smile, and in his car driving to work, driving home from work, or driving to the gym. The first two were like, “Aww, he’s cute.” The following 13? Not so much. He did shake it up a bit one day when he sent me a shirtless photo exposing his chiseled body (when you’re 5’4, I guess you have to compensate for what you can’t improve?), but then it was back to the same ol’ same ol’. I did mention to him that I found it odd he takes so many selfies; the hint was gone unnoticed, and I continued to receive aforementioned photos.


I honestly think that if he texted something more substantial along with his selfies, I wouldn’t have minded so much. Don’t underestimate good content, folks! It can provide a healthy buffer to stave off adverse visceral reactions to behaviors you find off-putting. Short Stack didn’t afford himself that opportunity, sadly. Jokes would have been good. Yeah, that or updates on the weather would have been nice too. Sending too many selfies alone = death knell to romantic interest.

Next step in our budding communication: talking on the phone. It went alright enough, I suppose, but there was no real spark. It was rather a letdown because our online conversations had more personality than he did over the phone. *perplexed* Still, I didn’t give up. This had to be a fluke!

Third step: Skype. I believe this is a mandatory step these days. You never know who’s really on the other end of the line, so this helps weed out those tricky Nigerians and Ghanans with their diamond mines. Conversation with Short Stack was even MORE awkward “live”. This doesn’t bode well for a potential relationship, does it? Our conversation consisted of a lot awkward silence or “Yeah, so my parents still live in the ‘burbs. I did my leg workout today. Gosh, you’re so pretty,” or “It takes about 40 minutes for me to drive to work one way. I went to the gym and worked on my chest. You have the nicest eyes and smile.” Again, nothing wrong with what he said, but when it’s coming from someone you’re not feeling, it’s awkward and elicits guilt because it’s not reciprocated. His final compliment was the straw that broke the camel’s back because instead of being smitten, I cringed when I heard, “You look so cute. I wish I could be there to cuddle with you right now.” Trying to be considerate, I couldn’t let this go on any longer because it’s just unfair to the dude because he thinks there’s something between us, and it’s obvious he wants to fiddle my diddle. How can an innocent Skype conversation start off with the slight hope of turning our boring communication into romance quickly crash and burn in a fiery hot mess in a matter of minutes? Oh that’s right; I subconsciously already made up my mind about him but didn’t immediately realize it. Hindsight…

Realizing there was no salvaging what little we had or denying the fact that he’s a little too into his body for my liking, I told him I don’t think this will work. I haven’t had to look at someone in the face and say those lines in a long, long time; so that was um, fun. (Emails and texting or the “fade” have been my primary choices.) As if on cue, the nice guy facade was quickly replaced by the default reaction to rejection: being defensive. He quickly turned it into “Well, I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t involve myself in anything unhealthy. This is poisonous.” My bad- didn’t realize my honesty is so venomous.

Not one to let things go so easily without a say, I asked him, “Wouldn’t you much rather I be honest than to lead you on? Personally, I think stringing you along without any intention of letting you hit it is more poisonous, but to each his own.” It didn’t look as if he appreciated my honesty because anger isn’t considered a “grateful” reaction in my book. See, people say they want truth and to not have their time wasted, but that isn’t always the case, apparently. Pppsshhh, oh well, whatever- my conscience is clear. Now to cloud it with a stiff, dirty martini!

Martini eyeroll



Have you ever received an email that didn’t totally turn you off but you weren’t quite sure you’re interested, so you respond to quell the curiosity? Then the follow-up email pops into your mailbox, and you’re like um, yeah, just no…

OverHisHead Email #1: So I’ve been thinking. I’m getting pretty sick of my job, it’s the same old thing every day. I think I’m going to head on down to Columbia and take a swing at being a renowned drug smuggler, like Johnny Depp in Blow. It wouldn’t be as fun without my Penelope Cruz though. You should join me. I mean… you really won’t have to do much, maybe a couple lessons of Rosetta Stone. Other than that you could just sit around the pool all day and drink margaritas and get oiled up by hot pool boys while i conduct business. So are you down? (Um, you mean ColOmbia, bro?)

My Response: Hmm, I’m not sure if NYC and Ivy League preppy kids are my cup of tea. I’m sure the only thing you’d be pushing are cocaine and Mollies to that crowd. Why would I need Rosetta Stone? I know they twoak a lil diffrent, especially if we goda Lonk Eye-lent, but it’s still understandable. Besides, the winter there can be brutal! 😉

OverHisHead Email #2: But you’ll need to know spanish if we go to Columbia ;-). Im pretty sure she ended up broke with 3 kids and he ended up in prison. I might need to rethink this. (No, I am the one who needs to rethink this)

So much for trying to be cute; dude just didn’t get it, and I refuse to spell it out for him. I much rather post this on my blog, so we can all laugh about it. Well, I’m laughing about it at least. “Look at dis fuckin guy! Gid outta hea!


shot to the head


Some men have absolutely no sense of decorum when it comes to online dating. One such instance is Mr. Jonah Goldsteinmanberg (if you don’t get why I’m calling him this, you and I do not share the same sense of humor. Maybe it’s for the best because I can be offensive). His profile proudly boasts that he’s successful and varied in his profession: a real estate broker/investor, an entertainer, a mathematics teacher, and a writer. If I didn’t see a photo of a curly-haired, big-nosed, pale gawky guy, I’d think he was Jamaican, mon! Oh, he also states the one thing he could never live without are his “funds”. Allow me to present to you our brief conversation:

Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: I would love to go out with you….I’ll make it worth your time….
Me: and how would you make it worth my while? (this is just too good of an opener to not inquire further)
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: Depends….what do you need? (er, need? this sounds very much like he’s wanting to pay for my time)
Me: hmm, I’ll eventually need a new liver sooner or later. I suppose a girl can always use another crocodile diamond crusted Hermes bag too
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: Are you drinking too much?
Me: yeah, do you have access to any fresh livers ? jaundice is seriously undermining my tan
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: Ok….this is not going the way I was thinking
Me: what were you thinking? (not going the way you were thinking? I can’t imagine it ever going the way you were thinking if this is how you initiate conversations with women who aren’t hookers)
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: We’re both in the same area….it makes it conducive for regular meetings….hang out, dating, loving, whatever… (loving??? ugh)
Me: oh, for a minute there, you made it seem as if you were propositioning me as if i was a prostitute. is that your usual approach with women?
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: what’s wrong with a guy having money? I don’t understand you at all whatsoever. Generous guys who love their gf provide them with funds to spend. ….it’s a courtship and companionship. …it’s something that I sincerely miss in my life (this is courtship? maybe I should direct him to an escort for hire site)
Me: Hmm, are suggesting I be your sugar baby?
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: I do not think I can ask that of you if we haven’t even met yet….need to go out on a date first (smooth, I see what he was trying to do there. I’m too smart to fall for that one, buddy!)
Me: You do realize your first message asked that of me, right? I suppose other females wouldn’t mind and probably even prefer your cut-to-the-chase approach. I, however, found it unbecoming of a gentleman because you were presumptuous to think you can make it worth my time- whatever that meant. It pretty much reduced me to an escort of sorts, which I definitely am not. If I may be so bold, here’s some advice. Wait on telling your companion that you want to give her some money to spend. A) it prevents from offending the prospective date and B) you can weed out the gold diggers. You’re welcome.
Jonah Goldsteinmanberg: you’re not….so let’s move on
Me: you are absolutely right. have a lovely day!

There is absolutely nothing wrong with a guy having money. However, there is very much something wrong with a guy who wants to buy a girl whose time isn’t posted for sale (OK, OK, maybe I’d consider it, but I still have plenty of money to last me the month, so his timing was off. I’ll check back with him by the 30th). Anyway, I doubt he can deliver gifts like Oprah. Just look at all her pizzazz!

Oprah Bees



I LOVE synonyms. With correct usage, one can turn banal writing into literary bouquets to rouse the senses! However, when you list several synonymsynonyms in one sentence, it’s just stupid and vacuous and absurd because it’s unnecessary and extraneous and gratuitous. Do you grasp and understand and comprehend what I’m saying?

SynonymSam: I am known to be very extreme and intense. I am a very deep, intense person, there is always more then meets the eye. I present a cool, detached and unemotional air to the world yet lying underneath is tremendous power, extreme strength, intense passion and a strong will and a persistent drive. I have a very penetrative mind, do not be surprised if I ask questions, I am trying to delve deeper and figure things out and survey the situation. I always want to know why, where and any other possible detail I can possibly know. I am very weary of the games that other people try to play and I am very aware of it. I tend to dominate and control anyone that lets me. I know one thing i’m vary adaptable and am much better live and in person….. and look younger than my age. The person that I respects and holds close to I treated with amazing kindness, loyalty and generosity. On the outside, I have great secretiveness and mystery. This magnetically draws people to me.

In case you missed it:

1. deep and more then (sic) meets the eye
2. detached and unemotional
3. tremendous power and extreme strength
4. penetrative mind and trying delve deeper
5. figure things out and survey the situation
6. dominate and control
7. secretiveness and mystery
8. intense and intense and intense

Lip curl



I’m not an ageist. I really, truly do like older people and enjoy their company. However, when it comes to the dating arena, I sing a different tune. I prefer my beau and I apply for social security and medicare together in the far future. I’m also skeptical of Life Alert’s current technology, so I’m waiting on something more advanced that’s bound to be released on the market in the next decade. Most importantly, the only senior I want to play “Hide the Nightstick” with is one who’s about to graduate college.

Growing old together

Me: received an email from an older gentleman. he wrote, “do you know what I like the best about you?” and so I responded, “the fact that I’m 24 years your junior?” not sure if he found it funny, but he said age is just a number.
Sis: it’s just a number until you end up having to change your husband’s diaper and administer Alzheimer’s meds while pregnant. Or when buying diapers you have to get adult sized for hubby & baby size for your kid, but they can share food…
Me: HAHA older age is fine. just don’t look your age. odds are though, you do, and that’s not sexy to me yet
Sis: there are ppl who look beyond that.
Me: I’m not exactly superficial. none of my bfs have been hot. I don’t look for hot. I look for “aww, I like your face”. that’s not asking for much, right?
Me: some people think I’m still 20, so imagine how awkward it’d be to be with a 50+ yr old. it’ll look like a total sugar daddy/baby arrangement- which is ok, but what’s NOT ok is getting that wrap without the benefits. if I’m going to be thought of as a gold digger, there better be some fkn gold to be had. just kidding, but I digress…
Sis: Don’t get me wrong, I love the elders. I love hearing how things used to be when they were our age. It’s just when they still act like our age & trying to bury a bone in our yard is when I’m grossed out
Me: “bury a bone in our yard”? is that a euphemism for what I think you’re saying??
Sis: Yes, never heard of that saying? My yard has restrictions: women only under 45. Lol My lawn isn’t open to the public!
Me:  what are those signs you see posted? Stay off lawn? I should put up a sign that says, “NO SOLICITING”. My lawn is not a burial ground.

Bury bone

There is nothing wrong with dating an older man; I just don’t prefer it. We’re all entitled to what we like, right? Some people have gotten their jock straps in a bunch when I decline their advances because they’re not what I prefer. You don’t see me getting all pissy when a guy tells me he prefers someone taller and with looser morals. Don’t attempt to change my mind; I know what I like so stop trying to shove your square peg into my round hole!


I’ve been reared to respect my elders… regardless. I’m actually very polite and courteous to everyone I come across, believe it or not, especially to those who are old enough to be my parents. My sister lectures me on making people earn my respect and to not base it on age; she does have a point because sometimes being polite doesn’t seem to pay off. Being polite and respectful towards old folks can welcome unsolicited relationship advice anchored in antiquated beliefs that can leave you feeling like a freaking broken spinster.


One time, I was working out at my apartment’s gym when a 50+ year old Indian woman (dot not feather) came in and was fumbling with the stationary bike. I walked over to assist her, so she started a conversation with me. After introducing ourselves and answering her questions pertaining to my profession and age, she proceeded to inquire if I was married, to which I replied I’m still single. From the look of disappointment in her eyes, you’d think I was forcing her to witness a cow being butchered and then serving her a grilled rib-eye. She pointed out that I was not getting any younger and that I should settle down. She went on to tell me about her 3 married kids and how the oldest two have given her grandchildren. She also took the liberty to tell me that my parents were expecting me to fulfill this duty and as a good daughter, I should oblige. She left saying she’d pray every night for me to find someone to marry and procreate with, which was rather sweet and thoughtful really. However, I think the prudent thing to do here is to ask my parents to corroborate said “duty” before I go and force the next guy I date to marry me and knock me up.

Recently, I was again humored when a Korean math teacher sparked a conversation with me. As if these old, ethnic women read from the same script, she asked about my education, then age, then inevitably, my marital status. When I told her I was not married despite having cohabitated with a boyfriend in the past, she gasped. She literally GASPED! She bemoaned my living in sin, “No, no, no. If my daughter did that, I would die.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her 28 year old daughter who has been dating her boyfriend for 6 years has undoubtedly been stuffin’ her muffin. As if I didn’t shock her enough with my tidbit of lascivious info, I also told her I wasn’t sold on having children. That’s when she rolled up her sleeves and talked to me in her mother voice. Apparently, without marrying and not having children, I cannot be a true woman (yes, she seriously said this to me).

UmmThe last time I was at the ob-gyn, I had two working ovaries and a healthy vagina, so I care to differ about not having fulfilled this destiny.

I’m not easily offended, but I can definitely see how others can be (my sister couldn’t believe their audacity). Although I don’t agree with their advice, I respect where they’re coming from and politely listen. I’m just wondering how I missed the memo where females were told that in order to have a meaningful life and to be a real woman, we’re supposed to get married and pop out babies. Yeah, about that… Um, no. I just tell myself whatever they said came from a motherly, good place. I’m just thankful my mother isn’t so old-fashioned and doesn’t lecture me about my countless, meaningless sexual exploits. Just kidding, as far as she’s concerned, I’m as pure as the driven snow.

SmirkGod, I hope she never finds this blog.



My best friend is fortunate that she no longer has to deal with the trials and tribulations of dating now that she’s happily married. However, the lovely memories of singledom of yesteryear still haunt her from time to time, especially when talking to me.

Bestie: there was this guy who stopped answering my calls, and I found him making out on photos on MySpace. Thanks for making me relive the past, bestie.
Me: Seriously?
Bestie: Yup yup. He stood me up one night. No call, no show. Luckily it was a group thing, so I totally wasn’t stranded. Didn’t hear from him. Checked his MySpace a few days later and saw pics of him with a random girl all huggy kissy. That was the end of that!
Me: *fist in the air* Ugh, what a total d-bag.
Bestie: Fist in his ass more like it, although he may have enjoyed that, so nevermind!

Thanks to social media, we don’t have to employ traditional stalking-like methods to find out why our date is being shady. I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he stood her up, or the fact that he didn’t give a shit about posting those photos for her to see. I guess it doesn’t matter because either way, he’s an inconsiderate, sorry excuse for a man.

The fact that she’s sarcastically laughing about it now (and it’s obvious that a lot of time has passed if she’s talking about using MySpace!), just goes to show how damn fabulous my Bestie is. Although a girl can be over a guy wronging her, it’s another story to forget the atrocity. It’s fine, though, because she was never the one to waste her time on undeserving dipshits. That’s right; she knows her worth. You go ‘head with your bad self, gurrrrrl.




Gods Fan ClubI’m not particularly religious. I don’t like to conform with the masses, and I question way too much to be an obedient follower. As a matter of fact, I identify as spiritual, so when it comes to dating, I try to avoid those who are seriously practicing whatever religion that tells them where they’ll end up when they die. I have this preference to avoid unnecessary conflict with a romantic partner. I also just don’t appreciate being called a heathen by anyone either. Tiny things like that that dooms a budding relationship, in my humble opinion.

Just as I state that I want someone with no children, I state that I want someone who isn’t a zealot. No gray area there, people. So why are there baby daddies and serious church goers contacting me? You can’t hide either for too long and just end up wasting each other’s time, so go figure.

Lt. “Iceman” was a sweet mannered naval aviator I met through eHarmony. After checking out each other’s profiles, we thought it was worth pursuing. For me, no red flags popped up: single, educated, non-religious, employed. Good to go! Or so I thought. We jumped through all the hoops that eHarmony thinks is dire in order to deliver a good match, so we exchanged all the Q&A dribble and finally phone numbers. We went on several dates and for the last one, he invited me over to his house to cook me dinner. How sweet and romantic, right?

When I arrived, he gave me a tour of his house and explained why there’s a surf board mounted on the wall and why he loves open shelving in the kitchen. Iceman then takes me over to his huge book collection in the living room that I found rather attractive. I love men who read a wide variety of literature! Then of course, he showed me his bedroom which was in immaculate order and tastefully decorated. That’s when I noticed another bookshelf. I’m not the kind of person who goes into people’s medicine cabinets, but bookshelves are totally fair game in my book. That’s when I noticed the dude had about 9 bibles. 9?? Why would one need that many bibles next to his bed? Call me ignorant, but how many versions are there?!

Slightly puzzled, I turned to him and asked, “Didn’t you say you’re not religious?” To which Iceman stammered, “Well, um,  not really. I just read it every night.” Uh… and I later find out he attends church twice a week.

See, I admire his dedication, but did he not foresee an issue with this? God forbid we end up getting married and then fighting over baptizing our child and then divorcing because we couldn’t come to an agreement! It’s a snowball effect here! There are plenty of girls who would appreciate his devotion to The Lord and actually prefer it. Just not this girl. Maybe he just wanted to save my soul by one day converting me into a believer. Or maybe he just wanted to get into my panties. I guess I’ll never know the true reason why he even bothered. Oh bloody hell.


Jesus Enters