Featured Blogs that Get More Views Than Mine: Finding French Charming

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So my homie K-squared gave me a shout out on her blog Finding French Charming  Normally, I’d play along except I have exactly 3 people’s blogs I follow.

…and she’s one of them.

So the whole pay it forward idea is a bit moot, but I’ll play along for the for the “lulz” as the kids would say but only after I thank her my way, with a blog review.

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I’m not entirely sure when I started following Finding French Charming. I’m pretty sure I was getting cozy with some Makers Mark, and saw a beautiful women holding “Mis Amor” posters and liking something I wrote. I clicked over and read the tagline:

Finding true love…. Even after forty.

HOLD

THE

FUCKING

PHONE!

There is no way she is in her forties.

NO WAY!

Sweetheart if you’re over forty, then I have a 14 inch dick. I’ve seen a lot of bull shit on the interwebs but I’m not buying that one. At some point if you could comment your doctor’s name and phone number that would be great. I would love to have a long chat about what I need to be doing upkeep wise.

Anyways, I started reading her story and could instantly relate. Lived in Texas, been on a shit ton of online dates, looking for someone who doesn’t suck. Okay nothing new.

…But wait a minute, she actually found someone? Like found someone, found someone, from the internet? What the fuck?

Holy shit, that is fucking amazing to me! A normal person (at least I assume from your writing), finding that in the crap shoot that is the internet. Wow!

I don’t mainly talk about my background much, especially when it comes to that scene. But If I’m taking stats, They’re probably in the ballpark of something like this:

-Been in the online game for only 3 years, only dated girls I knew in person before that.

-Hundred of dates,

-Age range 18 to 54

-All different backgrounds, races, nationalities, and even a few that didn’t speak English.

-Most of them ended in either sex, drunken make outs, awkward conversations were be  both said fuck it, the girl being crazy or weird and me not pursuing, or the opposite, me acting like a jackass and the girl taking off.

-I’ve probably only been on a handful of second dates, mainly because I was either self loathing around the holidays, she was a good fuck, or I genuinely liked her.

-All and all, I can think of three I would like to see again.

-So at the end of the day, we’re talking a 3% success rate for me (in multiple states mind you) when it comes to some type of actual connection.

So I have to say it again, that shit is fucking amazing to me. I bitch a lot about online dating because it really doesn’t make sense. Let’s judge someone solely based on how they take pictures and how witty their 500 character bio’s can be, and whether or not they are in close proximity to me. It’s like the retarded lottery, except for whatever reason I keep playing, which makes me wonder who’s really the retarded one.

But I digress…

Here’s the thing I dig the most about the K-money’s blog. It’s her tenacity. This journey isn’t all sunshine and roses. Shit happens. Literally. She clogs the toilet the first time she meets her French boyfriend’s mother. She has to deal with douche bag lawyers with fancy drink orders, Micro-manager motorcycle riders, fireman Hoarders, and many more cringe worthy stories in which I’m sure she hasn’t talked about yet.

And through it all, she keeps her head up, and goes forward. I like that. A lot of her writing is humorous, with a “it’s not a big deal” vibe to it. I’m sure she didn’t always feel that way but the fact she can look back and joke to random readers around the world about her life in this way is pretty awesome. I got to say this French Charming sounds like a lucky guy, cause who doesn’t find that sexy?

Overall the blog is an 8 out of 10

If you’re ever bored in the Chicago area, shoot me an email. We’ll grab a drink and trade shitty date stories. I have a good one just off the top of my head, where a bartender rack jacked this girl from OKC that I was convinced was a catfish, at a packed bar Saturday night in Texas. Can’t make that shit up.

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So as promised my two quotes about love:

“Love is all right for those who can handle the psychic overload. It’s like trying to carry a full garbage can on your back over a rushing river of piss.” – Charles Bukowski

“Love is where you find it. I think it is foolish to go around looking for it, and I think it can be poisonous. I wish that people who are conventionally supposed to love each other would say to each other, when they fight, ‘Please — a little less love, and a little more common decency” – Kurt Vonnegut

Tinder Date #137: A Review

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Today at noon, I received a message from her about an argument we had the night before. It said something about the Mexican refugee camps and how the kids born in this country aren’t citizens. It was one of the first conversations we had and I wanted to leave right then.

It wasn’t about what she was saying. Truth of the matter is, I could give a flying fuck in the night about her stance on political issues. But it was something about how she was saying these statements. Each one was connected to another idea with no supporting structure, like a tangled mess of cords in the bottom of your suitcase. I snacked on kung pow chicken as I listened further.

“Look people don’t believe me, but I know. I’ve lived in 14 countries and can speak several different languages. I use to live with a rich Jewish family that had connections. Like they told me Obama was going to be president back in the 90’s. Like I knew then!”

I took a sip of my Moscow Mule. This girl fully believed every syllable she was saying. It reminded me of a group of 70’s year olds sipping coffee at 6 am in a Greek Restaurant and talking about the Illuminati.

“I believe you. I’ve heard some of these conspiracy theories before.

“THESE ARE NOT CONSPIRACY THEORIES! I HATE WHEN PEOPLE SAY THESE THAT!”

I smiled and ordered another drink.

Things actually calmed down after that and we started talking about cities in Michigan. Then moving out of mitten.

She mentioned that she always had to keep moving to the next thing. It’s why she traveled so much. It’s why she had these crazy lifestyle stories. Like living on the streets in London, or stealing a passport from an Irish drug kingpin and leaving it in a taxi.

After she told me that, I knew exactly who she was. I think that is the reason why I wanted to leave. A lot of people I’ve met who travel have this calmness to them that’s hard to put into words. I like to think it’s the things they’ve experienced coming through their actions. But I think it only happens when you reflect and compare which is hard to do when you’re chasing the next thing.

Her stories were like a season of Weeds or Orange is the New Black (Yes I know, same writer). Lots of self induced shit, piled on with more self induced shit. I mean the reason she’s in Chicago in the first place is because she is traveling back home to Michigan and decided to not get on the last bus. All I kept thinking about is what is this girl running from? Do I really want to find out and get tangled in all that?

I sure as fuck didn’t but I’m always game for an adventure and a good story. So I stuck around.

#

Later today, at 5:00pm a few more messages came in from her. All this is really strange considering she still has my number. It’s never good when someone jumps back a level of communication.

They read:

“What’s it like being gay and dating women? Like I’m just curious?”

Hahaha

She was cute. Definitely one of the better looking girls I’ve met off Tinder. She was throwing the cat at me all night. But I wasn’t interested and ended up going home alone. My mind kept running with the last handful of shitty one night stands where I felt like an ass hat.

Hank Moody would say “A morning of awkwardness is better than a night of loneliness.” That fucker doesn’t know what he is talking about. There are worst things than being alone, but it often takes a while to figure that out. I’d rather be alone than with someone I can’t seem to find anything beautiful about. It feels too much like settling.

I had my first one night stand when I was 18. I was at my buddy house and I didn’t catch her name. It was like a badge of honor. Friends cheered me on. But 10 years later, things are different. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me and most of the one night stands go one of two ways.

Sometimes they’re like a cherry on top of a gorgeous night where two people meet randomly, click on different levels, and have an adventure around the city. Those ones stick with me forever.

But the ones I have off this app are closer to the other kind. Their all business, like the red light district in Amsterdam. Two humans borrowing each other to masturbate with because they have this emotional urge inside of them. I use to be okay with that, but lately it’s been feeling less like free will.

Dating use to be fun, why does it suck now?

#

In summary,

Don’t use the phrase “Conspiracy Theories” ever.

Cute girls aren’t use to getting rejected by their personalities.

Always follow the golden rule: “Never bump uglies with crazy” even if that means you get called gay.

Tinder sucks.

And I feel like an alien for preferring some type of deep connection with a few people as apposed to just skimming the surface with hundreds of people.

2 out of 10, would not date again.

If Tinder Profiles Were More Than 500 Characters: Pt. 3

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Part 1 Part 2

You:

-Hold my hair back when I puke

-Gives honest thoughts on my writing

-Are up to blow off work one Thursday to go to Navy Pier but happen to run into your boss when drunk walking down the boardwalk. You duck behind a Red Eye paper dispenser while I walk over to distract him, kind of like Julia Styles in 10 Things I Hate About You, only I keep my clothes on but would flash as a last resort.

-Thinks swing dancing in New Orleans is one hell of a vacation

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I:

-Can flip eggs without a spatula

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Pretty fair trade if I don’t say so myself.

If Tinder Profiles Were More Than 500 Characters: Pt. 2

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Part 1

-I don’t want you to come straight over to my apartment to watch Netflix

-I don’t want to send you $5 on Venmo for naked Snapchat pictures

-I want to meet at a coffee shop or bar

-I want you to get upset at me for being late because I thought we were meeting at a different spot down the street

-I want to hear about your day over glasses clinking and the faint murmur of 90’s alternative music

-I want to interrupt with various jokes that show off your perfect snorty laugh

-I want to hear about your superstition with ghosts and how you once saw a figure in black when you worked at the Old Adolphus Hotel

-I want to whisk you out of the bar and wonder around the city looking for other haunted buildings

-As we walk, I want to tell you how much I love to write, despite the amount of times I’ve been told my writing sucks

-I want to hear the passion that gets your blood pumping

-I want to finally find a dark building and make up a story why one light is still on

-I want to get so lost in our conversation I miss the last train home

-I don’t want to get super “handsy” when we stand behind your car, just bask in the tension of our eyes lingering during a pregnant pause

-I want you to say awkward things because your happily uncomfortable in the moment

-I want to interrupt by pulling you in for a kiss and breaking it off before you reach to bite my lower lip

-I want to say good night and walk an hour back home, past our haunted building, thinking about how excited I am to see you again

If you can’t handle any of that please swipe left

 

The kik. Attempt pt. 2

Part 1

He was killing time again at work with OKC. It use to be his favorite dating site when he could send a witty message to anyone, but now the stars have to aline for a girl to read it. His odds are just as good on tinder now that they’ve taken the personality portion out of online dating. Let’s be honest, who really has time to get to know someone these days?

He was 4 swipes in when the title “Mz Badd” came up. He stopped for a second. Most girls use their first name, but seeing this white 33 year old, with braided hair sparked his curiousity.  Her pictures revealed a busty 5’4″, beautiful thick waist woman, with a natural ass that would make Kim K jealous. He swipped over to her sassy misspelled profile, something he could respect as he was dyslexic himself. The last section of “You should message me if…” read as followed:

Whit Bois tred litely. I hang wit a lot of hispanic and blaks. Take ur bes shot whit boi if u thik u got game. Come corect or dont come at all.

His fingers quivered. When he was 21, he had a fling with a girl who had a raw personality back in his small home town. She wore South Pole suits like J-Lo and her apple bottom could be seen for miles. She even once surprised him on Christmas eve wearing sexy Ms Clause lingerie. They fucked for an hour and a half all over the dark stained carpet motel room that smelled like menthols. She told him he fucked like a pornstar and made her cum 4 times. He never came because he was embarassed of what others might think if they heard. Now he’s alone in a city, and she’s married with a guy who works at jiffy lube.

He fired off a message “I feel like a lot of guys don’t come correct”, and put his phone away, figuring it was a lost cause. An hour later she answered back.  “Lol no they dont”. then threw out three more behind it. The last one saying, “normally I dont hit whit bois back but u cute fr. I dont chec dis much, hit me up on kik XXXXX” Damnit, he thought. His achilees heel of dating apps.

As the day went on, they messaged back and forth. He found it hard to desifer her text speak, but when it came to online dating he’d put his writing and wit against anyone (except DT). He made a joke about how all white boys are corny. She laughed and asked him if he’d ever dated a “Boss Bitch”. He replied yes as he thought of his ex and the girl from back home, who both refered to themselves in such a manner. He joked about how she should wear a skirt and play golf. She said that you’d never find her anywhere near a green, unless your talking about that good shit.

He laughed then asked where would he find her? A few hours went by and she said “u still owe me the pic I asked for last night.” He instantly fired one back, “Woha, I think your trying to hustle me now. When was this?”

He sat there puzzled with absoultely no memory of getting solicited. He scroled through the messages again. Finally he found a random one that read “take me one of u now. stick ya tounge out too lol”. At the time he didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about, so he ignored it.

Within the past couple days he checks his phone periodically, still no response.

kik 2 – Darby 0

The Application

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I’m currently accepting applications for someone who loses track of time when joking around with me. Someone who shows up at the bar when I’m two Moscow Mules deep and instantly tells me about her day. Someone who mentions that she had good intentions of heading to the gym to work out today but instead just showered. Someone who laughs when I joke and mimic that she just washed her thick Italian hair over and over for two hours, almost making her late for work. Someone who takes the joke further by saying it’s all baby steps towards getting healthy and next week she’ll actually get a drink at the gym water fountain before heading to the showers. Someone who laughs so hard she snorts unexpectedly making me laugh harder.

I’m currently accepting applications for someone who storms off after an argument about me flirting with another girl. Someone who gets so frustrated, she moves in with her friend, Sasha. Someone who sips wine and makes jokes all night about how small my dick is. About how they never really liked me anyways. And about how she ‘settled’ for me because her ex moved away and she regrets not going with him. Someone who finally takes Sasha’s advice and heads out to the club wearing her favorite Orange dress that somehow fits. Someone who meets a charming guy that’s tall, witty, and successful. They connect on a deep level and he takes her to his place. Someone who texts me out of spite saying “I’ve already replaced your loser ass!” at 2:23am. Someone who fucks this guy and is still satisfied in the morning. Someone who gets a ride back to Sasha’s and hears Amy Winehouse sing over the E-class Bose speakers, reminding her of how I learned “Valerie” on my guitar when her mother passed away.  Someone who tells the guy they had a nice time. Someone who half way to the door breaks down crying on the street, and texts me, “I’m sorry”.

I’m currently accepting applications for someone who doesn’t want kids. Someone that understands that even though both of us would be awesome parents, it’s just not in the cards for me because I have too many dreams to chase. Someone who gets pissed at me for throwing every dollar towards a goal. Someone who throws a vase at my head when the financial shit hits the fan. Someone who screams every night at me when we sleep out of our two door Honda Civic dx parked behind Walmart and takes turns sleeping and watching out for employees trying to kick us out. Someone who dances with me in the heat in our new apartment when my hard work starts paying off. And a year later sips champagne with me at a fancy party, wearing a stunning red dress, and joins me in telling everyone “remember when” stories.

I’m currently accepting applications for someone who enjoys the spontaneousness of attraction. Someone who doesn’t mind shopping for paint at home depot and catching a gleam in my eye when I joke about the color ‘passion fruit red’. Someone who takes my hand and sneaks in the back by the patio furniture. Someone who tries her damnedest to hold back her moans as I jam my throbbing member in her at a repetitive rate. Someone who breaths extremely heavy at sound of incoming footsteps and kicks out during the climax, knocking over several boxes. Someone who laughs as she puts herself back together because I’m tell the worker about how it’s impossible to find the right outdoor plastic table due to the disorganization of this store.

But I’ll be honest, I’ve been accepting applications for a while now, and not many make it past the grueling the interview process.