Update…

So…  it’s not going so well on the e-dating front.  In fact, the only date I’ve been on in the 3 months and $260 from eHarmony isn’t allowed to eat solid foods FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE.  He also doubles over in full, air-starved guffaw at the slightest quip while slapping both knees simultaneously.  I am totally serious.  FML.  I spent the hike trying not to say ANYTHING funny, which proved to be an interesting task.  Plus I got a scar from his trailblazing idea through Griffith Park as I impaled myself on a lethal tree branch, following him down some cliff, but I learned my lesson hiking on a first date for multiple reasons, so spare me the lecture.

Anyway, I’m accruing more photos than I could ever possibly post, but mostly from Tinder now because eHarmony has given up sending me anyone remotely viable with photos.

On Tinder, I am a generous left-swiper (which means I shut down the vast majority of men), but at least I can go at my pace.  Luckily, the majority of right swipes have been relatively normal (until I open up the floodgates of dating hell, accidentally bringing solid trail snacks to the first date I’m sure), though most men are more gatherer than hunter and just want to chat instead of meet ever.  I did go on a date with a sweet, short Asian Star Wars nerd, but he invited me to meet at a shitty Hollywood dive bar at 3pm, ordered water, and tried to make out with me before walking to his car that I happened to notice had Arizona license plates, though he’s lived here for YEARS.  *shrugs*

Anyway, I did discover a funny website called TinderLines.com full of horndog losers and their opening lines.  I was glad to be forewarned so I could promptly thwart this near-miss:

Yes, I submitted it. 

Anyway, I’m off to share a burger with a cute army veteran.  I’m going armed, just in case.  Wish me luck?!?!?!

And now for something completely… the same.

Shit.  Not to throw our worthless eHarmony party into a tailspin, but I think you’ll come to love the new addition to this blog.

See, 2 days ago I was suckered into joining another single’s meeting site — Tinder.  Some of you are rolling your eyes already, but let me quickly catch the other folks up to speed to my 48 hour training.  The rest can scroll down to the unreasonable images.

Tinder is an app for your phone using very easy concept.  It shows you a photo of a guy and if you like him, you swipe the photo right, if you pass, you swipe left (we’ll become very familiar with that left swipe, trust me) and it shows you the next guy to decide on. 

Now some people can write a short blurb or have up to 6 photos (viewable at the “i” button), but that’s it.  There’s no matching on the 29 dimensions bullshit eHarmony boasts, but it’s free and simple, and only shows their name, age, and how far they live from your city.  Oh, you can screw down how far you’re willing to date.  Mine is set to 50 miles, since eHarmony has already shown me no normal human male lives within the borders of Los Angeles.

Now, if you “liked” or hearted the guy and he did the same to you before you saw his profile, it tells you you’re now matched and you can send texts to each other through the app or not.  If he sees your picture 2 days after you hearted him, and he hearts you, it still matches you guys and sends you a notification.  You don’t know looking at the picture if they have looked at you yet or hearted you unless you heart them and they already hearted you or heart you later.  Each “match” only gets on chance and you can’t skip and come back.  Got it?

As this fine specimen writes, when you see any other photos or their text, you then have to use the buttons on the top.

You can’t chat with the person unless both hearted, so I hear guys heart everyone just in case and apparently there’s an issue with prostitution profiles, but since I’m not a prostitute (yet) maybe I’ll be the cream of the crop.  Ok, maybe I could’ve picked a better phrase, but let’s move on and get to the Tinder guys!

I’d love to say it’s an oasis of mentally stable, articulate men that don’t test your gag relflex upon first glance, but then… my ridiculous love life wouldn’t be so entertainingly crappy for all of you.

Clearly, these guys using a 1 photo hookup site are willing to put in some effort, right?

OK, maybe not, but they are probably better dressed?

Well, at least they’re clothed?

I really do apologize about that last one. 

At least they aren’t showing off their exes or prostitutes.

Wrong again.  Well, maybe the Tinder guys are more sober?

This next guy has 6 photos of only drinking and jumping off shit, which I believe contributed to his hand job in the third photo.

OK, so all that booze must put them in a better mood.

It’s like Tinder “goes up to 11.”

But it wouldn’t be a fair assessment of the hookup site if I didn’t show you a couple of the promising hot hookups (no strings attached sex seekers) waiting for you on Tinder:

Yes, let’s.  Not.  So, what does this promising Beverly Hills housesitting stallion look like?

Now before you get your hopes too high that your new scandelous adventure is one of those young, soap-opera worthy hotties, here’s the only photo this horndog posted that isn’t a group shot with his hot-friend bait:

Yikes.  I already passed just on the text alone, but hopefully the rest of you are now with me.  If I was going to give it up to a total stranger, he better look like a movie star and not a creature feature.

He’s not the only troll trying to get under your bridge.

Benefits can be good.  I like a good, solid eye care plan that covers transition lenses myself, but let’s see what he thinks he has to offer:

Seriously?!  Do women see that photo and take the bait?!  Personally, I shuddered that he is only 28 miles from my home and looking to bone anyone he comes across.  I may never leave the house again.

So… that’s Tinder in a nutshell.  For future posts, you will now see a mix of eHarmony and Tinder photos.  I am accruing more photos than I am posting, but luckily for you, my dating life doesn’t seem to be getting in the way, so sit back and enjoy my failures…

Booze Hounds

In honor of my friend getting obliterated drunk and making a complete ass of herself at a sweet and intimate wedding last night, I thought it was time to share the next category — drunkards.

I’m no puritan.  I’ve thrown up with the best of them…  It’s just that when putting yourself out there for mate selection, you’d think it would be common sense to perhaps minimize just what a sloppy mess you are. 

For the record, bellowing out, “She doesn’t even love him!” at a wedding with your entire breast hanging out of your dress may take the white chocolate raspberry wedding cake, but here’s the male equivalent:

Whoever this guy is, he sure knows how to make a room spin, but he’s not the only match that has never taken a sober photo:

That’s commitment to the craft of liver damage.

Just as in drinks, there are many and varied shades of drinkers.  Some like to forego photos of themselves and just post booze shots:

The fruit arrangement alone could spark hours of speculation.

Some like you to see them in the act of drinking:

That was his only photo.  I see the alcohol more than him!  Then there’s this guy:

And some like you to see them at their drunken sloppiest:

He should’ve been my friend’s date to the wedding last night.  They both appear sloshed in formal-wear with full nipple exposure.

I only include this guy because in his very brief profile, he mentioned wine 5x.

And I can smell the alcohol just looking at this guy:

This topic wouldn’t be complete without giving potheads a brief honorable mention:

Oh, there will be more, but for now… there is your tasting.  Discard any unwanted men into the brass bucket and take a stroll through the gift shop while waiting for your party bus to pick you up.

What NOT to wear.

When a grown man shares a photo of himself in a costume on his dating profile, he wants his matches to know what they’re potentially getting themselves into. 

If it was some unreasonable hottie showing off his muscular thighs in his Halloween gladiator mini-skirt, I’d be busy asking him out instead of blogging my lament to strangers, but as you’ll see here, larpers, furries, pimps, pirates and juggalos need love too.

I don’t usually start with my favorite photo, but here it is:

The dog peeing on the tree is my favorite part, though I also appreciate that his “300” ensemble comes in “300 Beers” size too.

This was his only photo, so you’ll just have to imagine that the rest of him is as sexy as Bootsy Collins too.

I thought Shaggy from Scooby Doo preferred pot to acid.

This was also his only photo.  No, I will not follow him down into the hole.

At least he has an explanation.

It appears this Juggalo already has a child bride.

I’m not even sure which one I was matched with.

I think this one is “Fred Flintstone meets candy raver.”

Speaking of candy ravers, I can smell the Vick’s from here.

This one is more KaPow!-worthy and less Bang!-worthy.

Behold, the Madrigal Man.

This one is “Andrew Eldritch meets the Crypt Keeper.”

Again, I’m not sure which one is my potential matey.

But wait, there’s more to this furry than just his casual barhopping ears:

Me, “Ow.”

I personally feel that dressing like a human sex trafficker is a poor choice when enticing a mate, but maybe eHarmony is shifting it’s focus to become more of a LinkedIn for aspiring prostitutes.

My only question requires you to look closely — is the female photographer wearing only a bath towel?

It’s no “Black Pearl” but the “Lazy Day” has had it’s share of swashbucking just the same.

I think he starred in the Twilight Zone episode where he wished people away to the corn fields.

Dang!  I have a bunch more to put up, but my phone and WordPress are at odds this morning.  I’ll have to post them another time.  In the meantime, feel free to post your quips, comments, and condolences.