Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Dating fucking sucks.

Jesus goddamn christ.

Online dating.

Out of every 20 profile pages I look at, here's how they typically break down:
  • 4 are essentially blank; they're a saucy picture and either zero words or one sentence that says "hi send me a msg if u wanna know more kthx"
  • 2 are overtly churchy; "I'm totally devoted to Jesus and I want to find a man to help me on my journey"
  • 10 are just straight-up borning as shit; mundane comments like "I like spending time with friends and family" and "I value trust in a relationship" litter the place, and they inevitably work in something like marketing
  • 1 is more-pretentious-than-thou; there are big stupid glasses, selfies whilst drinking PBR, and references to shitty bands like The xx (which means they haven't rewritten their thing in a few months and now nobody gives a shit about 'em, gasp!)
  • 2 are mildly interesting; there are hints at there being an actual person with depth in there somewhere, buried under descriptions of how they enjoy travelling, like to take their dog for a walk, or have a niece who's really just so adorable
  • 1 sizzles; she's funny, witty, smart, engaged with the world, decent-lookin', and... well, guess what, she probably gets a shit-ton of emails a day, buckaroo
Out of the 20, then, that leaves the last two categories who are anywhere close to being decent human beings worth spending time with. That last one is outta your league, buddy, so you can whip up a soliloquy that would make Shakespeare shit his pantaloons, but she ain't ever gonna read it.

So then, ten percent of women... that's what you're left with. And they'll get flooded with ridiculous messages, too, so... y'know, you might as well just shoot yourself now and save everyone the trouble.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Well, it looks like I gotta revive this one.

Back from the dead comes the Brain-spillings.

I blew my cover, what can I say.

Like a dolt, I put an obscure link from my Facebook page to my other, more-current blog. And today after work, a co-worker of mine slyly mentioned, "So, I guess you've got time to have a couple of good dates, eh?"

I was puzzled... how did she know?

(The look on my face must've given away the puzzlement.)

"I read your blog. It's fun."


As I suggested over there, worlds are colliding. In fact, they sure did collide.

There are things I tell my work friends, and things I tell my non-work friends. And that's not because I like one group more or less, it's really not. But I just don't want to let those worlds collide. I'm not really sure why, but it just doesn't seem... right.

That's why I hesitated a long time to put any work-folk on my Facebook. Worlds, man.

Also, the woman I went on a couple of good dates with, well, she said she just wasn't feeling it. Which fucking sucked, because I liked her. I walked her to the southbound subway platform -- missing my own northbound train, natch -- and asked if I could kiss her goodnight. This is after we walked from Carlton all the way up to Bloor after seeing a movie. But she made me miss the train, and then she gave me the ol' thumbs-down. And so in my head I'm trying to figure out when she decided that I'd get the heave-ho, was it in the movie when I didn't, say, put my hand on her leg? Because that's a big move and we saw that Seth McFarlane movie and that's not really a hand-on-leg kind of movie (she picked it), so is that really appropriate? Ugh. I just don't want to think about it anymore. And I've largely succeeded in doing so. But I figure I just had to get it out here. And that's something I couldn't have done over there.

* * * * *

And the fucking Tigers lost tonight and they're in second place. Jesus goddamn christ.