Wahmbulance!

Ru-u-u-u-u-u-n!

"Are you up for the challenge?"
Sure, why not?  I'm always up for new things, you know me, Dear Reader!  Like, oh, say, vampire detectives.  Say.  But on to my latest non-fictional human suitor...

"I have lots going on in my life and will not compromise in any area of my life so why start here."
Sure, fair enough.  I certainly hear where you're coming from.  I personally am sick of the bullshit-go-round as well.

"I am employed, own a home, pay my bills on time and have my shit together. And you should too."
I DO own my home, sir, thank you very much.  AND my shit is mostly over there in that corner, but some might still be down in the car.  You know, I'm not exactly sure where that shit from that one job is... well, no matter.  And I'm sure I'll get a job the SECOND this strike is off.  If that's ok with you.  Um.  Sir.

"I am looking for someone who is exceptional in everyway. You must have your own life together and not be waiting for me to save you."
I - um - help?

"I might be a little hard around the edges but I am the kind of guy that will make you the center of my world and thus be your biggest fan and supporter."
(whispering on phone) He says I'm the center of his world... yeah, all the lights are off...  the big kitchen knife...  I don't know how he got the number... shit, was that the back door?

"Even if we do not click you will not regret getting to know me. I am abit to much for some women to handle."
(montage of me learning how to shoot a gun out in desert) SFX: "Danger Zone"

"So if your up for the challenge then feel free to drop me an email. however be entertaining, open and honest and we should get along great."
(sounds of my bare feet sprinting down Sunset)

help me mick st. john you're my only hope
x

Checkboxes they NEED on dating sites.

The one thing Gary is most passionate about:  

• About who I am I and what I do I would say is my most passionate point

Neat.

Gary typically spends his leisure time:

• I love to take in the time of the day and being in my own space and then I am about getting out and about and traveling and enjoying life, strange I know

At "once a week," I don't think 1) Gary drinks nearly enough or that b) drinking explains his profile.  Oh, how I wish "Shitty Ass Grammar and/or Spelling" were a check box explaining why one closes a match.

Next!

Out of the mouths of… of… of BRATS!

Once my head stopped spinning, thanks to the application of cool beverages, cloths, and a little couch time, Dear Reader, the realization that I had just been handed my ass on a platter by a small child hit me, and hit me hard today. Handed to me in Spanish, no less.

Now, as many of you know, I spent some formative years in a Spanish speaking capital.  I learned to speak Spanish around the same time I learned English, and so was completely fluent in both.  Nowadays, I still do fairly well in Spanish, as long as I don’t have to talk about politics.  Or The Nasty.  I just never learned the vocabulary for saucy Spanish repartée.

I excel, however, in the basics. 

Home during the day due to recent cut-loosedness from my longest running job ever (by threefold, in fact), it seemed as good a time as any to do a little laundry.  Downstairs, I met with a wee bairn, no more than five years old (to my unexperienced eye, at any rate; he certainly wasn’t old enough to illegally covet), who engaged me in conversation concerning the state of the lint filters:

SMALL CHILD
Son sucios.

ME
Indeed.

SMALL CHILD
Tú no hablas español.

I love how he just stated it as a fact, no doubt observing my pasty white legs and pale blue eyes.  Further, he should be addressing me in the formal, thank you very much.  “Look out, kid,” I thought, “here comes the shock of your life.”

ME (dun dun DUN!)
Hablo español poquitito.

SMALL CHILD (completely nonchalant)
Oh, yo hablo inglés un poco.

Our native languages and degree of fluency in each thus established, and with the lint filters all clean thanks to my new little friend, he turned the conversation to more pressing matters.

SMALL CHILD
Tienes niña?

ME (looking behind me, sure he was speaking to someone else)
Uh, Tengo YO niña?

SMALL CHILD
Sí.

ME
No, pues no tengo ningunos hijos.

SMALL CHILD
Esposo?

Reduced suddenly to a disbelieving spinster aunt, I replied just a tad defensively:

ME
Tengo un gato.  Un gato maravilloso!

Take that, kid.  My cat rocks your FACE.

SMALL CHILD (disbelieving)
No tienes esposo?

JESUS, kid, what’s your damage?

ME
No, no tengo esposo.

Sensing his spectacular win, he ran off to do his devil work elsewhere.

The duchess and I will now watch Heroes, no small children allowed.
x

How to not pick up a girl.

Lately, the Universe has been telling me how incredibly datable I am.  Yeah, you know what Universe?  Talk to the hand.

Driving down Robertson of a recent morning, minding my own beezwax, I caught frenzied waving out of the corner of my eye.  "Roll down the window, ROLL DOWN THE WINDOW, I refuse to learn how to drive or plan ahead, and I'M SOOOO IMPORTANT AND I DEMAND TO TURN LEFT IN FRONT OF YOU!" waving.

Also, he was on the phone, natch.

So I roll down the window, as I am a VERY NICE GIRL and give good directions, or, just in case, to tell him to fuck off.  It's always good to have a Plan B, girls.*

"Hello, I was just talking to my friend about you- actually, can we discuss this over dinner?"

If I were in Mary Worth (to whom I can't link for some reason), there would be a ???!?!?!?! next to my head (much like now because of the whole no link situation).

"Um, no thanks."

"Why not?"

"Uh... no thank you."

"Why?"

"Because... I said so?"

"Why?"

Unfortunately, Plan B got lost in the flabbergast.

Later that weekend, in Kansas City (report to come), I was again minding my own beezwax at the Farmer's Market. 

I need to stop minding my own beezwax, I guess, is the lesson here.

I was looking at some jewelry on a table in front of a shop, when NOTT-Hott-George-Lucas saunters over - yes, saunters - and starts up with the ICK.

"That would look lovely on you."

"Uh, thanks (fierce ignoring going on, trying to slink away)."

A few steps later:

"Oh, that would be nice for you as well."

Notice how he didn't even offer to BUY it for me? What the hell is wrong with people these days?

Luckily, this one was more hip to "trying to make herself look small and hiding in a hole till you go away" body language, so there wasn't a big "cause I said so" episode and I was free to keep trolling for antiques.  Phew.

Needless to say, this technique most likely WOULD work for Ewan McGregor.  You are welcome to try it out any time, Ewan, and we'll see what I can do for ya.

and IIIIIIIeeeeeeeIIIIIIIIIIhhhhhh will always...(gasp)... love YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUhooooHOOOOOO...
mlle_x

*I am reminded of an amusing Plan B from a few years ago:  At Benihana, two guys around the corner of the table were bugging me.  Finally I told them - get this - that I had had to identify my fiance's body at the morgue a week ago and didn't feel like talking to them.  Worked like a CHARM, ladies, so keep that in your back pocket for any emergencies that may arise.

If you saw this in your Inbox, what would you do?

Seriously, man... what would you do?

EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW

Look who wants to meet ME!

Kimon-----    44, Los Angeles, CA

 

how he's different

sex, sex & more sex

who he's looking for

sex partner

How IS Wopp Different?

Well, let me let him tell you himself!

well i'm a male that thinks for himself and if a woman want to be apart of my life well than let her be.

Intriguing...

Tests are fun! See how you and Wopp compare! 

The Classic IQ Test: 
105-119

his interests
(none)

more about Wopp
(nothing)

who Wopp is looking for

gender:     Female  
location:     25 miles of Oxnard, CA
interested In: Fling / Physical

   

Nice.  I'm all a-tingle, Dear Reader.

where is Oxnard?
mlle_x
 

I knew it!

An interesting fact I ran across today:

If you can not afford the price [of custom high heeled shoes], try asking your boyfriend or husband to buy a pair for you.  As for high heel fetish wear, guys often buy for their girls. No true boyfriend or husband who likes high heels would refuse, unless they can not afford them or do not love you enough.

NOW I know how to measure a man's love for me.  I wear a 10 AA, boys!

out prancing the boulevard,
mlle x

Hey... I'm female!

Here is another charming come-on from a Long Beach (might as well be Long Island) gent who is seeking only one quality in his "physical fling" partner: female.  Check!

I am an intensely driven and highly self motivated and self disciplined individual with great people skills and an extrordinary work ethic...sounds like a resume doesn't it. At the same time I have a great sense of humor, love to bbe around people and like to relax and have fun. I consider myself a rennasaince man

And there it ends.  Lack of punctuation not mine for effect! 

Don't forget - Rennasaince Men are not obliged to spell correctly - or be attractive in any way, apparently.

And also don't forget that I toss resumes that haven't been through spell check.  NEXT!

your pal,
mlle_x

It's called SPELL CHECK, sir. You should check it out.

Men... WHY?

This is one of the more lucid insane people who has contacted me through Match.com recently... doesn't anyone use spell check anymore?

"So you can kick my butt. I got news for you, not all older men are old. I live in the L.B. plaza area, by El Dorado Park. I'm a long shore man/ crane operator. I enjoy going to Big Bear because I own a house there as well. I've only been to Maui and Cancun. I hope to start traveling again soon. On a celebration I like to enjoy a bottle of Dom Pe'rignon or very good wine. Hope I aroused your curiosity. I'm told that I act and look younger then my picture, I guess I'm still a big kid at heart. I hear that women have 11.3% more articulate brain matter then men. Just let me have 10% say so, just enough to make you laugh."

¿Qué? I guess I'm curious as to why you don't use grammar check as well.

This guy reminds me of an awesome story in The Weekly World News back before the Berlin Wall came down.  A Japanese Hibachi Steak House opened in (take your pick) Budapest, Prague, somewhere in Romania (you get the idea) - the first one ever behind the Iron Curtain.  Local guy is trained to be a chef.  On opening night, he has a flying knife accident and cuts off a diner's fingers - all of them! - leading to his firing.  The local Communist Boss guys were kind, though - he was allowed to have his old job back.  As a CRANE OPERATOR!

A wink received yesterday led me to this masterpiece of self-salesmanship...

"Well here go's. I'm here because, like everyone else I cant figure out the other sex. O'believe me i've tryed. But i'm not a quitter thats why i'm back.2 years ago i give this on line dating a chance and i ended up with a beutiful lil boy.just wish thing would have worked out better. I work for a large company as an electrician.I like my job.I have 2 wonderful boys the older one is 11 years old and the younger one is 10 months. what i'm looking for is a stable relationship.someone that is honest,up front about everything.if you want to know more just ask."

Yeah... I know what YOU want to ask, Dear Reader; Is English his native language?

Yes.  Yes it is.

Back to the trenches....

mlle x

p.s. more vacation snark coming soon!