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The unbearable lightness of dating

The unbearable lightness of being single.

There is a movie that came out in the 80’s that I got suckerede into seeing called the Unbearable Lightness of Being. (When a woman sporting a G-cup bra asks you to go see an erotic movie, your penis suddenly has an open social calendar.)

Director Phillip Kaufman basically held me hostage for 2 FUCKING HOURS and 51 minutes.

With popcorn.

Not only was it not an erotic movie as promised, there was no happy ending, on screen or off on that fated evening.

Even a sloppy handjob would have been at least a bandaid in this situation.

The only thing the movie did for me was to depress me and push me into a suicidal whiny morass that pooched my evening and several evenings to follow.

It was hands down, the most depressingly shitty tale ever told, like Sylvia Platt during the come down from a meth binge, like right before her teeth fell out.

The internet is supposed to make dating easier.

Instead you have an ocean of choices when all you want is a cup kept to yourself.

Think of cable tv.

We now have several hundred channels to watch, and yet, there is nothing on.

Same thing with dating.

And both dating and cable tv have gone up ridiculously in price over the years.

But, while flipping channels, if you do happen to catch daytime reality tv, you get to see the most bizarre couple combinations humanity has to offer.

So is that the only options left?

To find some sort of Jerry Springer green room contestant?

Maybe the illusion is the normal life and the real normal life is the freak show?

Never been a fan of freak shows, despite my limited exposure to it.

I have disarmed a mad woman in the dead of night.

I have been accused of impregnating a woman I never had sex with.

Same woman claimed I asked for her hand in marriage, which never happened. (Her entire argument was that I had implied it.)

A totally different woman tried to talk me into financing a murder.

Any decent psychologist would ask “Who are you punishing here?”

No clue.

If it was just one freak show, I could see it.

But 4 separate freak shows?

They are obviously not the problem.

It has to be me.

I am Nipsy Russell from the Wiz.

“The genius who created me only took care of my dashing good looks, my
razor-sharp wit and my irresistible attraction to the wrong women,”

We will ignore the lack of a heart thing, it kind of goes without saying.

So, if I cannot trust myself with finding the right woman, the only other solution is to leave it to karma.

Karma and I have a bit of history together.
I am still firmly of the opinion that karma is lazy and pretty much only shows up when it feels like it, if at all.

The idea of giving up seems counter productive, but there comes a point in any journey that when you hit a dead end you have to admit that the journey is over.

Giving up it is.

Somebody recently asked me about all of the hiking I am doing.

And it suddenly hit me that I am occupying my time.

And knowing me, it makes perfect sense that I found a hobby that includes a lot of time for reflection.

This is the mental version of pouring a mix of salt and lemon juice on a cut.

But there is almost a peace in the idea of giving up.

The unbearable lightness of dating.

Bite me.

 
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Posted by on May 27, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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You wanna go out?

I am in one of my favorite breakfast places.

The coffee is hot, the hotcakes are good and they don’t mind me being there for a few hours.

And there is a couple on a date in the next booth.

It a “Meet and Greet” date.

They met on a dating site.

He is here to try and get things going.

She is here to make sure he is not a serial rapist.

That’s a date that starts with the phrase “Hey, does this rag smell like chloroform?”

Its an odd thing to see two people in their mid 30’s being this polite and nervous.

From the sound of my RUDE listening in, they have been IM-ing all week.

You would think they would be a little more comfortable.

Or maybe that is why they are nervous, because they know a little something about each other.

There’s a little skin in the game now.

It would be easier on the nerves if they had met in a singles bar.

Emotionally, there is no skin in the game there, just skin.

Singles bars used to be called meat markets and for good reason.

Nowadays, we are much more civilized.

And the meat market is now online.

And its a hundred times worse.

It used to just be that there was one or two guys that would get sloppy drunk and use the obscene pick up lines.

The bouncers would get wind of it and Mr. Rude would get tossed.

And all was right with the world.

Now however, due to the anonymous safety of the internet, guys aren’t even getting sloppy drunk before they break out the truly vile pick up lines.

And out of pure survival instinct, the ladies have mentally circled the wagons.

Three quarters of all women’s profiles on the dating sites say, at a minimum, “No hook ups”.

And that is the mildest defense.

The ladies that have truly had a hard time has some disclaimers that, at first glance, you would think was a joke.

One truly stunning Asian woman had a disclaimer, all in caps, at the end of her carefully written profile.

“I will not  blow you on the first date and I am not into anal.”

Here are my thoughts.

That is not the sort of thing you write because 1 or 2 random guys asked her these things.

There had to have been enough requests that she felt it necessary to include, not in the first private communication, but in the profile, right off the bat.

This is like dealing with a battered wife.

Or maybe it is dealing with a battered wife, without the hassle of the wedding.

Which leaves the rest of us to deal with a bunch of hypersensitive women that have been mind-banged by the internet.

Thanks guys, on behalf of all of us trying to date in the modern age, thanks a bunch.

Now, there has to be one woman, some complete skank that this has worked on for this many assholes to get the idea that it will work.

So she deserves a big thanks from the rest of us.

The internet is more to blame than anything else.

Because now the freaks have an easier time cranking their freak flags to even more disgusting heights.

As we all know, the weirdest porn comes from Japan.

So, no matter what you are into, there is a website dedicated to that.

Before this becomes a post about internet porn, let me pull my attention back to the dating couple.

They have both calmed down and there is some decent conversation going on.

And there is no chloroform in site.

I wish them luck.

 

 
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Posted by on September 14, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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