Hi Boo's, my name is La Tish and I been crushin' it since hole 1 and I ain't talkin' bout golf honey. Last man I called boo had a boo'ze prolem and he'd show up to da pool like Freddie Krueger and shit. People be like yo man all went Friday the 13th at the baby shower girl, it's time to end that nightmare and move to a new street before ya got some real casualties yo. Did I mention I'm real? Yeah, 100%. Also, did I mention I KEEP it real? Yeah. I keep it so real that you can draw a marker on my face and it turns purple like a twenty dollar bill at the .99 cent store. The man of my dreams is not riding on his overdraft account with Coinstar, knowhati'msayin'? I'm lookin' for a tall stack of coins to take a dip in, maybe even swim laps. There's a lot more to know about me, I got lots of opinions and I'll give em to you. Please don't make me give you an opinion about your momma (and her controlling nature), your job at McD's or your old rattler you pick me up in. I'm lookin' for the Bill Gates of first dates so come on hustler, show me.
Hello, ladies and germs my name is Grandma Donna. Long time reader, new contributor. Thought I'd dust off the old rug and get out to meetcha. Bought this rug years ago at a fancy boutique. It was beautiful, dense and frankly very useful. Used to clean it regularly and throw it up on the line to spank down with a wooden spoon. As time went by though I had a few kids and the rug got stomped down with all the traffic. For awhile it was being used as a dog bed and eventually we used it as a protective cover for some antiques that we rolled up in it and stowed away. My husband died last year and I did a full house clean up. Found the rug, shook it out and had some professionals come out and do the once over. Now it's back to looking dense, if not brand new. Thought I'd extend an olive branch to some gents (Scooter boot, here's lookin' at you honey) and have you over for a little picnic on my rug.
P.S. You don't have to call me grandma
Unfortunately, my face is in need of help. Haha. I'm a landscape guy so when someone tells me they believe the grass is greener, I ask them to tell me directly where that grass is they are referring to so I can go give the owner a quote. My grass gets pretty damn green I've been told, so honestly I'm not looking for greener grass. Even if I found greener grass I'd still be happier with mine cause I put my own sweat into it. Also, I live in a glass house and those same people like to tell me I shouldn't throw stones. As far as I'm concerned no one should be throwing stones. Why would we be enabling everyone but people who live in glass houses to do that? I guess guys without sin can throw stones at glass houses? How about we all just put the stones down, how's that for an idea? Let's just appreciate the glass and the architecture.
I'd like to say that I'd be happy as a clam to meet ya, but I don't think clams practice sentient feelings of joy. I can say that I won't get cold feet at least. The temperature in my shoes runs fair to average.
I'm your fantasy girl, you know the one in the erectile dysfunction commercial. No, not the Asian, the busty redhead or the sassy black chick. I'm the blonde that kind of agrees with what the other girls are saying and giggles without ever managing to close my mouth completely. Hi. Yup, just sitting here with my girlfriends next to a fireplace sipping white wine and talking about dicks as usual.
The thing is... when the commercial ends filming we are not talking about men's penises, like ever. I have four kids to pick up that go to three different schools. Anna, the Asian one, has a candle business that she is obsessed with. If the word candle was replaced by the word "penis" than you could definitely say she is obsessed with the size and also the scent, but contrary the only fucking thing she talks about is the Winter Paradise convention where a bunch of new merch is being introduced. Ashley, the redhead is borderline lesbian she hates her husband so much. He's obsessed with the size of his penis, not her. Like it's not tiring enough to go to work and act ecstatic about dick size to have to go home and the gig never ends! "How about from this angle, how's it look now?" For awhile she tried to fake excitement thinking maybe she was the one woman that didn't really give a shit about how big a guy is. We all did. Until one of us decided to speak up and say "Hey, does it really matter?" And bravely each one of us came out one after one to regail our stories about how sex with our average men was actually amazing and the most annoying part was their whining about not being big enough. Courtney, the sassy black one suggested to the director that men actually do the commercial because the emotions and reactions would be much more real and less contrived.
Anyway, my name is Megan, I'm looking for a special man in my life. I left my husband last year when he had an erection that lasted longer than 65 hours leaving him crippled from the waist down. When I say I'm looking for a huge dick, I'm not talking about your cock, I mean I'm looking for a man who constantly has better things to do. That's the kind of big dick most of us women sit around obsessing about.
Was just checking out these personals and they sound pretty decent. You got the run of the mill guy that wants to poop on someone, the Scooter Boot guy that frankly scares me a little more than poop guy, the lady who wants a guy that lays in bed all day. You got the guy who wants to do golden showers under the golden arches while watching the Golden Girls. It's like the Wizard of Oz, everyone is here! My name is Shane and I don't have any crazy quirks. "Oh, that's what they all say!" Yeah, I can hear your mom now. No, pretty norm-ish. I'm 32 and single, never been married. My favorite color is green. I'm a Virgo. I work in sales and graduated with a degree in Psychology. I had a pretty good stint with World of Warcraft in my twenties and so that may have delayed my relationship maturity, but I had a few short running girlfriends. I talk to my mom weekly, we're buds. I like to hike, bike, camp, go on spontaneous trips, play Words with friends, go to comedy clubs, eat all kinds of ethnic foods. Yeah, so that's me in a nutshell.
So now tell me about you, but before you do...one question...
Can I shit on you?
Okay, so I'm that guy from the earlier ad, I just didn't get the overwhelming response I thought I was going to get (just a Harry Potter impersonator and a heavy set BBW tranny, sorry, I'm kind of picky about who I poop on). I felt I needed to write a less formal ad and hopefully get your guard down so you could cozy up to the idea of my butt on your chest, face and possibly poop directly into your butt (we can talk about it, I'm a great communicator). We can even role play like I'm not going to poop on/in you, we don't even have to talk about it.
Call me, let's get wasted.
And I'm looking to take a dip in the lady pond ifyaknowhati'msayin'. I'm a straight up alcoholizzic. I like my ladies like I like my drinks...wet. Aw g'yeah. An ideal date with me would be like this, check it...I pick you up in my lyft car so I can charge back the free ride and earn twenty five bucks so yours truly can take you out for a little food quickie. I'm thinking drive-thru cocktails at my friend Bart's house with a couple taco's from the taco stand by the Shell. I'm a ro-manic what can I say. We take our bite to eat and stand in line at Quatro's the hottest club in town and it's ladies night! That means you get the treatment. Me, a drink, a straw and a cup. I'll take you out to the dance floor looking like I'm your middle age manager at Spencer's gifts training you on what's where and dropping obvious one-liners like "You must be sugar cause you're damn fine!" I just came up with that off the top of my head. Yeah. Oh, and I hope you like Marshmellow cause I'll be bumpin' that fool alllllllll night in my Lyft Mazda with the undercarriage black lights. Those black lights leave nothin' to the imagination. After the club I plan on taking you over to Bart's where I can show you his condom collection. It could be yours if you play your cards right. Visa and Mastercard accepted.
When a man asks if I want to be friends with benefits I assume he is referring to, of course, being my friend, but also providing the added benefit of standing idly by as my trust issues boil over. I assume he is talking about being friends i.e. joking around, going out for coffee to discuss current events, leaving each other funny Facebook memes, with the added benefit of always being in proximity of me as I go on masochistic rampages calling him every name in the book after which I dump him only to call him crying apologetically a half hour later. Wouldn't it be nice if we could both be friends, but rely on each other to fulfill the deep void left inside by our abusive childhoods by you displaying unconditional love and validation without any strings attached? Great! I am certainly interested in a friends with benefits arrangement, but if you think for one second I'd just be giving it away to anyone then you are a real bastard. Please don't demean me like that or it might just be better to part ways. Let's start out with the benefits and see where it goes from there!
My name is Meredith and I'm bi-polar. I know what you are thinking, you twisted people, but I twisted it back on you; It's not that I don't think I'd be a great lay...I wouldn't want to be inside the hamster wheel I wake up to. I get to wake up to what I call "The Committee". The Committee decides if it's going to be a great day or a sucky day. A conversation in my head might go like this..."Today is going to be a big fail. No, don't say that, you know you get to choose how you perceive things. Oh, shut up, that's just a conspiracy made up by the weed industry. What?! That's ridiculous, there's no weed industry. Maybe you should try some weed...a lot of people say it helps with this exact kind of mental tug-of-war. I'm fine, I just need to get out of my head and do something. But what if something bad happens. It won't if I think happy thoughts. You aren't Peter Pan, what kind of shit is that?" And so on... It seems like every choice is an epic battle between hyper vigilance and self-doubt.
However, I'm a blast when I'm not not a blast. I might make someone who is very lonely and bored actually interested and not-bored. I can't promise it's going to be worth it. But then again, it might be the best choice you ever made. Being inside me is probably pretty good as long as your not actually inside of me, if that makes sense.
My name is Pierre...not really, it's Pete, but I'd like to be the Pierre-type for just a day. I'm that hopeless romantic hard exterior, but softy inside that watches too many Movies like 500 Days of Summer, Valentine's Day and Pretty Woman. I'm looking for a long term relationship that starts with a whirlwind. Can we meet at a museum and make loud comments about the "Artist Intentions" and argue about whether it is a Gouache lithograph or an egg tempura wood cut? Then afterward photo bomb people outside by re-creating the "Soldiers Kiss"? You: The girl that can fish off a pier and get dirty or carry on a smart conversation with the Embassy. I'm not sure what the Embassy is, but isn't it cute when guys overgeneralize and are slightly incompetent? Me: I'm sick of being just Pete, the handsome, muscular fix-it guy and I'd like to be the sensitive lover-type I have inside, can you help me? Will you be my Zooey Deschanel manic pixie dream girl or my nerd girl turned class?
If you are a dude online looking for dates, please feel free to cut and paste this with your desired name and real name substitute. Ladies love this shit! I had my neighbor write it for me since my ad about BMX'ing and boobies wasn't getting any responses. Now they are flooding in! Works more efficiently than penis pills guys!
Are you having a mortgage crisis on your property? Has your personal stock gone down cause you bought land next to a gold digger or a pill popper? All that emotional baggage you are carrying from past relationships making you look like a broke down fixer upper? Maybe it was your enabling mother that led you to shopping at Forever 21 and now you're 50, maybe it was your nagging wife that wouldn't have sex with you and now you're a cheater. All's you need to do now is call Fanny May! I look for bad boys, fixer uppers and total foreclosures. I'll seduce you into thinking I'm what you want and then I'll work you to the point where you'll be a perfect catch, the only catch is that you'll despise me. Just like an old house or a Miley Cyrus song I'll come in like a wrecking ball. I'll point at your job and say "no!" I'll point at your stuff and say "hell no!" I'll point at your friends and say "You're not gonna be worth shit if you keep these guys around". Somebody has to do it. I can't help it, just like the government I have major control issues. Control is love so give me what I want and the next lady you date will thank me for it.