Monday, January 31, 2011

Top Gun.

It has been yet another uneventful weekend, hence the lack of posts.  I spent Saturday night curled up on the couch with a Jack and Coke and the ABC Family Original sequel 'Mean Girls 2'....

If that does not scream single, I am not sure what does.

The only things that would top if off were if I had a frozen dinner, a stack of US Weekly, and a cat curled up on my lap.  'Mean Girls 2' was by no means on par with the original, and it quickly became clear that no amount of Jack would make this bomb of a movie any better.  After about 20 minutes, I gave up on the flick and headed up to the attic.  I'd spend the rest of my evening reading a book and wondering why I haven't been able to bump into my future husband at the bookstore or a quaint little coffee shop.  I was not even in the mood to check any of my dating site emails...I was certain nothing interesting was coming my way.

Sunday was filled with an action packed day of work.  As soon as 7:00p rolled around, I was fired up and ready to get the hell out of the mall.  Afterall, it was a Sunday evening, and by this point, Showtunes was well under way and I couldn't stand to miss another second of it.  I made it across town and showed up to the bar in record time, and was quickly joined by my good friend, J-Hett.

I'm a sucker for showtunes and cheap pitchers of beer...and the two together are a great combination.  Plus, add in someone who shares my same passion and it's bound to be an enjoyable evening.

No one was really catching my eye at the bar, so I mostly kept to my friends and sang along with J-Hett.  Next thing I knew, I had a lurker just over my shoulder.  I'm pretty particular about my personal space, unless I actually know you and we're engaged in conversation.  I'm never too crazy about someone standing within inches of me, practically breathing down my neck.  J-Hett and I tried to move away just a bit by doing somewhat of a little shuffle dance a few feet to the left of where we had been standing.

My shuffle-dance-away attempt had been foiled, and Lurker made his way over too.  He did a little circle around us but moved away from our general vicinity.  I thought we were in the clear and I proceeded to pour her and I another drink and belt out 'Elephant Love Medley'.  

Just when I thought the coast was clear, Lurker was back...however this time he went after J-Hett.  It must have been the delightful vintage shirt dress that J-Hett was wearing.  I told her she looked great in it, and it must have been helped her pick up a homo!  Lurker blew past me and quickly introduced himself to J-Hett and began singing along with her, but all the while keeping one eye and a sly grin on me.  J-Hett apparently had become my wing-man, in the matter of minutes.  Clearly I am the Maverick, and J-Hett is Goose, but in this story, the wing-man doesn't die.  The whole situation was odd, as he didn't actually introduce myself to me.  He was quick to strike up a conversation with J-Hett and dove right into chatting about various musicals.  Of course my competitively jealous streak kicked in, I got passed up for a girl at a gay bar!      

After taking matters into my own hands and doing a little investigative work, I was able to learn the Lurker's name and that the Lurker is actually in a relationship. Suddenly I didn't feel so bad that J-Hett is better at picking up gay guys than I am, she can have them if they're already off the market...they won't do me any good.

Showtunes came to an end, and J-Hett and I parted ways.  It was another uneventful weekend, but I now have a newly acquired wing-man, and frankly, she may come in handy in weeding out any more lurkers from bothering me.  

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Aye Papi!

I did a pretty good of making it clear that I wasn't interested in a 'boi', and was seeking a man, but apparently I needed to be a bit more specific than that.

A couple of days I ago I was messaged by a 39 year old gentleman who shall be referred to as G.  He started the conversation with a simple greeting;
"dammmm baby boi u are one hottie ummmm" 

Not entirely sure how to respond, I simply said thanks.  I didn't even have to glance at his profile to know that I wouldn't be interested...a whole handful of my pet peeves in just one sentence is always a turn-off.  He then followed by saying "your bio says u would be hard to handle dammm i bet thats rite"

Well it's true, I am hard to handle and I wasn't really in the mood to further the conversation, so I said "yup". Then I got this gem of a message;

"ummmm u ever need a daddy i want to apply sexy guy, would love to try and plzzz u in any way u wanted me to ;) ummm damm jus the thought makes me break out in a cold sweat, lol, would love to jus give u a bodacious bj one day :)"

It took me a moment to collect my thoughts before I could respond to G. Unfortunately for him, I'm actually not in need of a 'daddy', as my biological father is alive and well and just celebrated a birthday. On top of that, I'm not interested in anything that could be described as 'bodacious'.

After my brief and uncomfortable chat with G, I quickly perused my profile to see where I had mentioned that I was interested in a 'daddy'. A few quick seconds later, and not seeing one mention of this odd fetish, I was satisfied that G was simply a fluke, and somehow he was to blame to thinking up such an absurd situation on his own.

Are younger guys actually interested in much older, heavier, and wrinkly-ier guys to think of as a 'daddy'? The closest thing I've had to a daddy was my ex, and he really was a dad...he had 3 children, but he was only a few years older than I was...not a few decades.

Thinking this wave had passed, and this was just one more oddity to add to the ever-growing list of freaks I attract, I was greeted with a message from an even older gentleman. He first asked if I were into older guys, to which I said that it depends on the guy.

I mean come on, Anderson Cooper is a bit older than me, and if he came my way, I would be interested. However, Nick Nolte is older than I am too and there isn't enough Jack in the world to get me interested in that.

The older gentleman then replied that 'Depends' may be a necessity when dealing with older guys, to which I said "If that's the case, I sure as hell am not interested." He quickly tried to defend that he was making a joke, but it was too late, that ship had sailed.

I'm not sure when I gave off the vibe that I wanted a 'boi' or a 'daddy'...but that certainly is not the case. Where is someone my age? At this point I'm almost willing to relax my apparently too high standards if I could chat with a nice twenty-something year old. I don't think my interests are hard to come by, and frankly, if the daddies got with the bois they could all stop bothering me.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Grow Up.

I realize it is only 12 days into the new year, but my dating prospects still look a lot like the ones I was trying to leave back in 2010.  

Here is a run down of the messages I have received in the last 48-ish hours or so; 

This message came from a 27 year old guy whose screen named contained the phrase 'blondeboi'

"This may sound creepy, but one of my good friends used to date this guy from AL that looks like your little brother. I mean seriously. eerily alike!"

Well, Blondeboi, I make it a point to not take interest in people with the word 'boi' in their screen name, at the age of 27 I think it's time to consider yourself a man. And on top of that, I don't have a little brother, so this message is just odd overall. Blondeboi continued to tell me the name of the guy that resembles my little brother so that I could check him out on Facebook and see for myself. After a little investigative work, I was not sure if I should have been offended for me or for my fictitious little brother. The kid looked nothing like me, he had about 35 pounds on me..and was about 5 inches shorter. Apparently if I had a little brother, he would have a striking resemblance to Danny DeVito, and in reality, all of my siblings are quite attractive...none of them look like Danny DeVito...which is good, since they are all girls.

Then there was 44 year old 'johnnyboi' who considers himself to just have a few extra pounds, but really is a fairytale romantic at heart and enjoys a good hairy guy;

"Nice looks you go out to any of the bars or clubs ? Guess what im trying to say is maybe you would like to meet up sometime and go on a date ..we cold meet somewhere for coffee or a drink and take it from thier ( catch a bite ,take a long walk or even go dancing or stay inside to )hope to here from you soon."

I guess if a 44 year old can still think of himself as a 'boi', a 27 year surely can too?  I don't know where in any of my dating profiles I suggested that I was even interested in a 'boi', let alone a 44 year old one.  I left this message alone and immediately sent it to trash bin.  The misuse of 'boi', 'their', and 'here' was already a turn off.

And just when I thought he was out of mind, Big D made a return with this little gem:

"sup boi.....whats gud for you this morn, juss wantd to chill wit u when i left the dr office if that's cool wit u."

Once again, I needed a translator to help me understand just what Big D was trying to say.  I'm not interested in chilling, or anything that's considered 'gud'.  

What exactly is a 'boi' anyway?  I am a 26 year old man, I have not been a boy since I noticed some hair sprouting in places where it wasn't before, and that happened in about the 5th or 6th grade.  I really do hate the use of the word 'boi', mostly because it is not even a word to begin with.  I even more so hate it when fully grown men use it to describe themselves as such, and frankly, I'm interested in a man, not a boi.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Hello 2011!

A brand new post for a brand new year!  Sorry it's a couple of days late, but I've been super busy and wanted to put a lot of thought into an And Frankly yearly review.

2010 was a very tumultuous say the least.  Although nothing seriously bad happened to me, the past year was chock full of minor inconveniences, that when all added up became quite ridiculous.  In the course of 365 days I found myself  unable to find a job pertaining to the overpriced piece of paper I spent six and a half years earning, found myself frantically searching for and buying Steve Perry because my poor little PT Cruiser met her last days over the summer, found out who my true friends are and who was actually just a slut, wrecked my brand new car just weeks after having purchased him, and took up residency in an attic because I had the cops called on me for stealing a car...but not just any car, a BMW...and needed a place to live after moving from Oak Grove to Nashville....within in the course of 32 hours.

On top of all that, I found myself on some rather strange, unusual, and mostly odd dates, but I now have the interest of a nugget, a Craigslist Missed Connection, a vampire, a thug, my ex's current lover, an incredibly handsome smart ass, and the title of 'Most Bejeweled' to add to my resume.

2010 wasn't all bad, I have made a ton of new and wonderful friends, so who knows what will happen in 2011.  I am keeping an optimistic mind as to what the year could hold, and since I started 2011 off by tumbling down a flight of stairs and soaking myself with my cup of beer in front of about 15 people, things can only get better, right?  I'm still the same awesomely charming and witty, handsome hopeless romantic I've always been, only now I may raise the bar a bit, I'll have to increase my standards as well as my budget for online dating sites.

I surely won't be using the timeless cliche, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened" when I reflect back on the past year because 2010 and I called it quits and went our own separate ways...much like a nasty breakup, and frankly, 2010 can suck it.