So here comes the pain! Don’t worry, this pain ain’t for you, it’s all self inflicted babe. Ain't it nice we can call each other those cute pet names? The writing below might even be mildly amusing for you, kinda like witnessing someone slip and fall dead on their ass. Oh hey, maybe you noticed the excessive amount of words on this post and thought, “Fuck this I’d rather grab the sheers and do that manscaping I’ve been putting off.” Well then happy sheering to you and remember, the smaller the bush, the bigger the trunk looks. Here, I’ll even send you off with you’re own personal cheer that I wrote just for you.
Ra ra sis pumba!
Snip snip, don’t nick that dick
Ra ra you’re the man!
Mental note, fake and bake that tan
Ra ra this might sound crass!
But don’t forget to shave that ass
Yaaaaaay Weeeeeee
All right fine, nuff messing around. So here’s the story.
Someone caught my attention so I exchanged a few emails which progressed into instant messaging and then on to the phone. Meh, seems pretty typical so far huh, well it kinda is. We had 3 or 4 nights of life changing, charismatic phone chat that went on for approximately 5 fucking hours each time! Yeah I know crazy huh! On top of all that he’d send me cute morning messages that were so considerate and melted my ice cold poor excuse for a heart. Everything was right and super cool x’s 10, no really it was. This guy said all the right things and according to him, I was pretty fucking awesome. Wooo whooo, this feels amazing I thought. The banter and quirky talking was bringing that once forgotten teenage smile to my face again. Hmmm in hindsight I probably should have left it at that because having someone who you think really ‘GETS’ you and gives your ego a huge heave ho is extremely motivating and it would have most likely fuelled my comeback from the self induced straight-jacket and padded room I’d banished myself to, over 2 years ago. Unfortunate for me or him, depends how ya look at it, we just had to meet. I wouldn’t want to be one of those girls you guys constantly bitch about, the chronic online relationship ladies. I mean, shit we hit it off to such a degree NOTHING could go wrong, right? Wow, Me = Epic Clueless Dumbass. See this is where that idealistic, naive child that I’ve mentioned before comes into play, however this is one of those few times it should not be embraced. It’s just super dumb and I set myself up so bad that now I even laugh at the magnitude of my explosive brain fart.
So okay, I’m getting ready right and “Holy Keryst, none of my godamn clothes fit anymore! OMG what have I done!” I’m doomed. I’ve gone out to battle with no artillery and absolutely no fucking clue where I am. Although completely unintentional, I seemed to have overlooked that I happen to be one of those ‘only a face pic’ chicks’ that I’ve been ranting about for the past 5 or so days. FUCK, are you fucking kidding me! Whoa, whack me with a hypocrite stick. Whatever, I made the commitment to meet him and I’m a woman of my word. Best I can do is wear black, starve myself for 48 hours in a pathetic grasp for a miracle that would instantly put my body back to when it was 'da shit', and hope to high heaven he is so enamoured with my exceptional personality to hang for a month till I get myself back to my original 'fuck with the lights on' body that I once possessed. Spending way more time than the usual 5 minutes applying makeup while simultaneously trying to retrain myself to apply enough that it enhances, but not too much that I
1. look like I’m hiding freakish abnormalities
2. seem to be trying too hard and looking incredibly desperate.
3. overwhelm him with my paralysing beauty that he can’t even function (Yes genius, the 3rd one had a wee bit of sarcasm)
There’s also a good chance that I may have fucked up the makeup process altogether and what I thought looked good, actually parallelled a Marilyn Mansonesque style. I suppose I will never know for sure now, but what I do know is that I gave it the good ole try. I put the effort in didn’t I? Doesn’t that count for something? That previous statement is fucking stupid, who’s keeping count anyway? However, not realizing that in 2 years you sure can put on the weightage is kinda ummm bad and
This was my first meeting/outing/encounter after 2+ years of being perched at my trusty MacBook Pro Shrine while chain smoking legal and not so legal substances and
Back to the date, ugh.
I knew the moment I jumped into his car that he wasn't into me. Sure I’ve been out of the loop for a pretty long time but I’m confident that I’m not oblivious to this dudes thoughts which he conveyed through obvious body language which was probably something to the affect of “Fuck what’s the quickest way to get this chick outta my car without feeling like a total douchebag” vibe. Oh and don’t worry Mr. POF’r (that is kinda funny, Mr. Poffer, sounds like a bloke who’s light in the loafers) please know that I have absolutely no intention to sit here and bash you or nit pick about what I think isn't quite appealing about you. That’s not my bag, or in my bag of tricks. More importantly, I don’t have one of those cheap uncreative bags anyway. To be quite honest I actually kinda digged you and you seemed pretty cool. Despite some things that were not so great, they really didn’t affect the overall package and the positives outweighed the negatives. Trying desperately not to feel sorry for myself and genuinely taking him into consideration about his incredible disappointment that a humpback whale now sat in his passenger seat. I grinned like a baby that just farted and repeatedly fought the urge to fling myself out of the moving vehicle.
Movie theatre time! After 90 minutes of incessant fockerized lingo being inserted in every annoying dialogue scene throughout the entire movie, Little Fockers had ended. Quick bathroom break, brisk walk to the car and a pitiful attempt on the drive home to make me feel not so bad and mention “Yeah, we should do dinner sometime”. So now we're in the driveway and I leaned over, hugged him and thanked him for a nice night while resisting the urge to gut punch him for a dinner invite that was clearly a pity date and all empty words. Unfortunately, I'm fucking crazy, but not stupid.
So this morning I mustered up the ‘cojonies’ to instant message him. Those same cojonies weren't quite big enough to make the actual phone call to the ‘DUDE’. Anyway, after some brief lame weather chat "Wow, sure is a lot of fucken snow out there huh?” chit chat I typed the words that were the least painful that I could conjure. Something to the effect of “I caught that vibe last night and although disappointed, that’s cool. No point in sitting uncomfortable on Instant Messager.” Ignoring the Polkaroo in the living room that's bent over and hard pumping Ragedy Andy atop the toy box just ain't healthy and frankly just bad for my kharma. DUDE's response, “You’re an awesome girl, your just not what I’m looking for” TRANSLATION - You’re a fatso.
I'm not going to sit here and describe what a fatso is, only that I feel like one at the moment. Whether 10 lbs or 100 lbs overweight, it's up to the individual to decide. Ya know what guys, after reading this if you suddenly get the urge to ask me for a body shot, I’ll personally drive to your house regardless of distance and sit on you with my enormously humongous arse while repeatedly bitch slapping some sense into you although knowing full well that attempt is a complete waste of my time. Don’t get me wrong, I know physical attraction is very important but it’s your standards that seem a little skewed. A #5 rating seems to think he/she is worthy of an 8 but when I use the term rating, you instantly think looks. Ones exterior has never really been of much importance to me as long as you bathed regularly, didn’t have any major physical/mental deformities like a second head. I'd never get past that so make note dual head people, I'm just not your gal. Frankly, it fucking creeps me out. Am I shallow for not giving the two headed guy, or guys (eeek) a chance? If so then guilty as charged. Look out peeps, mega shallow gal coming through. Meh, I’m pretty sure I can live with that little tidbit of self disgust . What’s important to me is being mind fucked so intensely that I couldn’t even muster a thought the following day. A friend had just told me that I’m rare and most focus on the exterior which is just a nice way to say I'm fucking weird and on the brink of complete insanity. Well, as much as this ‘physical attraction, chemistry’ thing is kinda important to me too, the messages I received on my brief ‘PHOTO UP’ stint on that dating site were “Hey gorgeous, wassup. Happy New year hun” and to be honest, they were boring and I eventually ignored them. Although I did start out by responding to all of them thinking it only proper to be polite and said “Not much. Happy New Year to you too” I quickly realized that that only encouraged more mindless chit chat from effortless men and that the amount of emails I had received in such a short time, this correspondence would end up becoming a full time job if I were to answer them in my genuine 'DiAne' way which although kinda weird it would always be with the respect and common decency most lack nowadays. Mass mailing goes against the courting thing to begin with doesn't it? How does one get to know another if they don't care from the start. As a result I was fucking wiped, emotionally exhausted by trying to answer all these emails the way my convictions told me was the right way. As a result, there was only one choice and that was to bring it down and hit the reset button. I think now this tantrum is over and I'll shoot up those evil deceiving pics again and not because I want to deceive, it's because I'd rather be judged on my insane ramblings then my looks which will change again .. and ... again. If any interested guy actually read this SCHTUFF, in my opinion you've definitely earned a Sainthood, regardless.
I’m here spilling my guts with the raw truth, well my raw truth. Fucking chill ya testy shit, I don't plan on speaking for you so don't have a bloody coronary thinking that I think I know it all. Obviously if you've made it this far you really should know better. I know everything about nothing and that's on a good day. It’s hard enough for me to keep from getting on my own nerves.
Okay, IDEA TIME!!!!!!! AHEM
Introducing, PROJECT PROFILE OF THE DAY! Think in terms of THE WORD OF THE DAY
Have I scared you? Good! Maybe you'll go back to that profile of yours and give it a little extra effort for that special rock your world girl that's gonna come along real soon, PROMISE. Just another wonderRIFFICK idea that's paddling around in my head. I'll list a profile a day that I find ‘interesting’. Some may be funny and creative, some sad and slit your wrists worthy, others written by mature adults that write like kindergarten children. Whenever I come across a special profile, I plan on tearing that fucker to shreds and with your help if you feel the urge to join in on the constructive stoning, feel free and welcome. So glad you could join us and look forward to all your brilliant input. Exploitative and cruel you say? Umm well yeah, DUH. Fucking get over yourself. Seems this is the only shit that will light that long forgotten fire you and I still seek. Regardless, that’s the WWW for you. Sure it’s invasive, insensitive, assuming, judgmental, incredibly immoral and just plain evil at times however sometimes that can be kinda fun. Maybe this backwards learning experience will enlighten us all and that one day instead of offending the crap outta each other, we'll have regained that inner child that possesses the untainted hope for mankind we once had and finally shed the baggage that we think we don't have. Constructive criticism with the purpose to help you get that elusive special significant other by not sounding like such a dumb shit. What? I’m not making fun of the handicapped here for fuck sakes! They actually have an excuse but what’s even more puzzling is that some of them are actually much smarter than the average POF'r. I’m not kicking babies or coming to your house and shitting in the middle of your living room. This is the net and the content, although I’m aware some is copyrighted, I really doubt yours is. So, beware Mr/Mrs I'MTIREDOFTHEBARSCENE, we're coming for you! This is a group effort of two so far and we're recruiting all genders, classes and races (a little World of Warcraft reference there. Yes, I'm a recovering WoW addict, now back off). Send me those stories and profile links that pushed you so close to the edge you wanted to toss your laptop off the 16th floor.
So here it goes. Hit publish DiAne, FUCKING HIT PUBLISH YOU CHICKEN SHIT!
Click!
The above is a weeks work of writing so I'm out to walk the dog, hang out at the gym (fat arse remember) and I'll begin the search tomorrow, however if someone else has a submission shoot it my way and I'll get it up pronto ;) PROJECT PROFILE OF THE DAY is a collaboration. Maybe then this blog will actually BE CONSISTENT! Meh, remains to be seen.
DiAne OUT!
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