Dude, Stop Calling Me Dude.

There are three things that will guarantee a response from me. One, if you are hot (The Fireman). Two, if you amuse me (Willy Wonka). And three, if you piss me off. Yesterday, I was pissed off.

To make the long story short, I was first sent an email from Mr. Damn Obnoxious Uber Cocky Harassing Egomaniac (D.O.U.C.H.E) about nine months ago. I wasn’t interested the first go round after he bombarded me with emails asking if I could handle his charm, good looks and muscular physique. Had he actually been any of those things I surely would have handled him, and then some. However, the 30 year old, 5’10, 135 lb. Sales Rep with a Bachelor’s Degree just wasn’t doing it for me.

His barrage of one liner emails became so incessant that I finally responded by saying simply “Thanks but no thanks”. Of course he wrote back asking why. I’m sure his mind had been blown that I wasn’t swept away by what could only have been created by the Greek God’s themselves when giving life to such a perfect mortal.

If his pictures weren’t anything to write home about, his profile certainly wasn’t helping matters either.

Im looking for a cute and smart woman who I can have a connection with, date, and fall in love with. Chemistry and physical attraction should be there, as well as mutual respect.

I have a good job in sales which I really enjoy. I graduated from UCLA with a b. a. in political science and live in Newport Beach now. I want to buy my own condo soon. I like to work out, and it would be nice if that person keeps fit. Oh, and ladies, when I say Im 5ft 10, it does NOT mean Im really 5ft 7 lol.

I love to laugh so a sense of humor is a must. Intelligence is a turn on, I cannot stress that enough. Head games, selfishness, or flaky behavior is a turn off. I have a sarcastic and playful side, but I balance that by trying to treat people like I want to be treated. Lets meet for a drink and see if we click.

Read: Looking for love, chemistry, the Fountain of Youth and pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He loves to laugh? No shit. He's fit and wants you to be fit. Sense of humor, blah, blah, blah. No head games, or flakes, yada, yada, yada. Claims to be educated yet can’t seem to get a grasp on simple things like basic punctuation.

Generic pictures, generic profile. Where has this guy been all my life? Sorry I didn’t meet him sooner. We should get together ASAP so that we can knit potholders while watching Jeopardy and spying on our neighbors from rocking chairs. Perhaps for an encore we can discuss AARP benefits, fruit cake recipes and debate the pros and cons of providing condoms to high school students.

As tempting as that all sounds, I eventually found it necessary to block Mr. Douche. I’ve got better things to do with my time than to spend it dodging some prick that can’t take No for an answer. Moving along…

Yesterday, out of the blue, I had the pleasure of being bombarded once again by emails from Mr. D.

Mr. Douche: Still scared of dating cute guys with nice bodies?

Where is this mythical cute guy with a nice body that he constantly speaks of? I thought I had blocked this moron. Looks as though Mr. Persistent went and got himself another profile. Awesome sauce.

Me: Yes, clearly that's it.

Him: Well whats your deal then?

*Silence*

I’ve played this game with him before and I have no desire to play it again. Now he’s just getting creepy. I’ve taken to hiding my pots, pans and rabbits.

Him: Dude dont take this the wrong way but you're not exactly Angelina Jolie and you're so NOT out of my leauge. Why the whole arrogance? Are u only into guys who make you feel smaller or something?

*Silence*

Him: Not out of my leauge dude.

Now I’m ready…

Me: First of all, DUDE, stop calling me dude. Second of all, it’s quite apparent that in addition to not being nearly as attractive and in shape as you claim, you are also not a rocket scientist. To most people, the silence would be a clear indication of disinterest and let it go. You seem to be confusing my lack of interest for arrogance.

However, if I remember correctly, you hit me up a few months back using another profile name in which I did tell you I was not interested. To continue harassing me is a clear sign of your immaturity and ignorance. Also, I’m not sure of which league you are referring to but I highly recommend that the next time you try using such large words, learn to spell them correctly.

For you to actually write “Are u only into guys who make you feel smaller or something?” makes you an idiot. Get over yourself and find somebody else to bother.

And for the record, you are correct about one thing…I’m not exactly Angelina Jolie. I’m blond.

Then I blocked his ass. Again.

Only two things could have come out of this union. He’d either end up wearing me as a suit or I’d end up on Dateline sporting the latest fashion in orange jumpsuits. Either way, I’d lose.


**Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time somebody has mentioned this distinguished “League”. Jack from Brooklyn has also had the pleasure of being the receiver of such unfortunate and misguided spelling. I highly recommend you read his post discussing his participation in what he refers to as the “Age of the Internet”.

The Fire Has Gone Out With The Fireman

Here’s how I know that The Fireman and I will not be sustaining a long and fulfilling relationship:

Five minutes after arriving, he began telling me of his “Latina” phase. Apparently, he is now into women of the Hispanic persuasion. Hi, have we met? I’m a 19 foot tall blonde. Thanks, Jackass.

He only brought one bottle of wine.

He spent 12 minutes discussing his previous night’s date where he spent $50 at the movies and didn’t get laid yet decided that he couldn’t forgo $10 to get another bottle of vino for me…even knowing that I WOULD be putting out.

I started playing on Twitter while he was talking.

He seemed slightly annoyed when I managed to rip his belt in half while trying to get it off of him. (I don’t mess around when I’m trying to get into a man’s pants. If I feel it’s taking too long, clothes will be torn and belts broken. That’s just the risk you take)

Since he wouldn’t let me sleep at 1:30 in the morning, I made him go out to buy me more wine because I realized he was only bearable if I’m intoxicated.

He tried to order a hamburger with a side of tits at the Jack In The Box drive through on our way back from getting alcohol.

He bit me.

I found myself rolling my eyes several times when he wasn’t looking and even contemplated if it was too late to go ask the neighbors if I could borrow their duck tape. At midnight.

He tried to stick his dick into my wine glass to get my attention since I found an old episode of Criminal Minds more entertaining than his thoughts of self realization and his need to acquiesce to the demands of family and friends to settle down and find a “good” woman.

All in all, this evening I just described can best be summed up as an “I shaved for this?” kind of evening. The conversation was dull and the sex mediocre at best.

I didn’t even bother with the morning sex. I got dressed and sat on the couch to wait for him to wake up. Walking him to his car was the highlight of the whole experience.

I’d once been told that if I were a bitch, I’d be nicer. I’m inclined to agree.