OohLaLa

For those of you who are blissfully unaware of the Tinders - maybe you're married or cohabbing or living under a rock - let me give you a sneak peek into the WTF world of

App Dating

Tinderland, where you look at someones picture(s) and whatever they have chosen to share or not share about themselves (in 500 characters or less) and click the red X for "aww HELL no" or the green heart for ummm maybe yes, but if we get to know each other a bit I still might say "aww HELL no". 

Some of my more scintillating options

If you both select the green heart, you match! Which means you can now message each other! And if they are not what you expected... then you can unmatch from them and they can no longer see your profile or talk to you. 

Recently I matched with a moderately handsome guy Jacques* whose 500 characters or less said

"Made in France. Living in Los Angeles."

 He started chatting with me. Here is an approximation of the conversation:

Jacques: Hi

Jacques: Can I ask you some questions?

Me: Sure!

Jacques: Have you ever been in love?

Me: Yes. Have you?

Jacques: No.  But I hope to.

Me: It can be wonderful. 

Jacques: What makes you unique?

I started to think... wow, these are great questions! Way better than the usual "'sup" or "how are you" or "how's your day been". My interest is definitely piqued!

Me: I'm funny, loyal and a great listener. 

Jacques: I'd like to continue, but this app is a pain. Do you have OhLaLa? It's better for chatting.

Me: I don't even know what that is.  :/

Jacques: Do you have iPhone or Android?

Me: Android. 

About 2-3 minutes go by... nothing. so -

Me: What brought you to LA? Does your family still live in France?

At this point I have email to attend to, so I leave the app for a couple minutes. When I return - 

He is gone. Unmatched. Without a trace. Buh-bye. I mean, if it was so important that I have an iPhone with some mysterious OohLaFancyPantsFrenchChattingApp, he should have specified in his profile. Harumph.

*didn't change his name at all.

Renaissance Romeo

WELCOME TO TINDERLAND

Where unlike Vegas, what happens here gets spread all over the interwebs. 

so Tinderland has some *ahem* unique folk wandering it's fertile grounds, and I was matched with one whose prose was more like poetry. We'll call him "RR" for Renaissance Romeo. Here are just a few delightful excerpts from our tinder-messaging:

"I speak three languages; English, Joy and Appreciation." 

"Appreciation is the fuel by which all relationships thrive and ascend. Find a way to consistently appreciate those who you share heartspace with and it is amazing what occurs."

"Then before your head prepares to caress the pillow, please allow me to say thank You; I appreciate You for writing, being playful and setting off a very sweet spark within. I wish You a peaceful night's rest. " 

I quickly determined I could never date someone who spoke so ridiculously, but also that I needed to meet RR to see if he spoke suchly and thusly in person, or if he was just a regular guy masquerading as a wanna-be Shakepeare. I felt a little deceptive leading him on like that, but inquiring minds wanted to know! And by inquiring minds, I mean me and my friends. ...And by me and my friends, I mean mostly me.

We tinder messaged for a while, then switched to text message, and still his words were more like a sonnet than the usual text abbreviation/shorthand "hyd" (how ya doin) "LMFAO ur funny" "laughing my fucking ass off, you are funny" "ttyl" (talk to you later) that one sometimes gets.

Finally we spoke on the phone, and I was a little disappointed that RR spoke like a regular dude, with the exception of a word here or there. I had gotten to the point that I was really hoping that he would confabulate in iambic pentameter. Alas, he did not. He did, however, finally make good on his tinder profile where he espouses his ability to make people laugh. I legit belly-laughed at least four times. Maybe this guy could be a good match after all...

And then... the other shoe dropped. I have written in my profile that I am looking for  a guy who is 5'11" or taller, and RR asked if that was a deal breaker. It isn't totally, but it kind of is. My "research" into this Tinder-rrific gentleman and what he is like in person had gone this far, so of course I said, "No! I've dated guys shorter than that. I just usually am attracted to taller men." To which he replied, "Well I'm an inch taller than you, I'm 5'8"." The possibility that RR might actually be a keeper poofed away as quickly as it was created. "Oh, well, you're taller than me. I'm sure that's fine!"

We meet for coffee the next day, and not only is RR mistaken about his height (he's maybe 5'7" if he stands up super straight), but the shirtless pic of himself he posted was clearly from when he used to go to the gym. But he is charming, sweet, funny, and I find myself having a great time! And then... I see his hands. His little, tiny, baby-hands. Oh NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I cannot. I just. CAN. NOT. do baby hands. Little chicklet fingernails and tiny digits that are only good for needlepoint and other small crafts or maybe for making sweatshop clothing. But I am on this coffee date, so I just try to keep my eyes up.

And, oh god, there's more. RR has a daughter. Who is 24. Who is only three years younger than his last girlfriend. Who is like totally Mensa genius level smart. And who supports herself as a semi-nude model. But her modeling is all really tasteful. And he is so proud. Of his semi-nude-model-mensa-daughter.

RR's career is befitting such a Unique dude. He helps people with SOUL EXPANSION. What the fuck is that? I don't know. I would have asked (ya know, "research") but I was fairly certain I would dissolve into a fit of giggles and that's just rude. I'm not sure why I care about that... When he had previously alluded to his job in our phone conversation, I was so thankful we weren't facetiming or skyping, as I had to hold the phone away and stifle laughs when he told me. He's a rambler, so it was fine that I couldn't reply due to stomach spasms. He just talked on and on about how amazing he is.

I genuinely began to regret the resarch-date when RR asked if we could "go deeper." and would I like to "lead the dance" or shall he? *cue another involuntary stomach spasm and herculean effort to keep a straight face* This is when RR began to espouse his "brilliant" thoughts on soul expansion, loving, relationships, etc. I truly learned his love of his own voice and theories at this point, when he rambled on and on for about a half hour or forty-five minutes about who-knows-what *cue glazed eyes and insipid smile* needing no response save open eyes and a heartbeat from his conversation partner.

The next day I was racked with guilt/didn't want to play this game anymore and texted him to "break up".  He tried extensively to convince me that I would grow to love him over time. I had to tell him 8 ways to Sunday that I just wasn't into him, without mentioning his delusions on his height, his incessant ramblings and his teensy-itty-bitty-baby-hands. It was exhausting.

I've only heard from him once since, just to text hello. And if I never hear from RR again it will be

“Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!”

no butts about it

Tinder likes butts and they cannot lie
These pictures can't deny
when a man swipes in with a nudie pic and a butt crack in my face I swipe LEFT. 

because ewww. gross.

I'm no Sir Mix-a-Lot and these guys shouldn't have put it all out there for the interwebs to have until eternity.

Bedbug - er, butt

Muscle butt

You can pick your friends, you can pick your butt, but please don't pick your friend's butts

Sudsy butt

butt selfie

butt ring

Beach Bum!!

Camptown Races

A friend on facebook just posted a video that is nearly a minute long of her twins running in circles. To a song that plays out of one of their toys (read: tinny, no words, annoying as f*ck). She was giggling in the background and the caption on the video was "you're welcome."

...for what? for taking away 50 seconds of my life I can never get back? for getting a terribly grating children's song stuck in my head? for posting something I want to see less than that other friend on facebook that posts a picture of what he eats every day? Seriously. I would rather see a picture of food on a plate (ooh! look! chicken and steamed vegetables!) that watch your child act like an idiot.

literally her kids looked JUST LIKE THIS

Call me insensitive, but just because you think your child acting like a dog chasing it's tail is cute doesn't mean it is. Look, I like kids. I really do! I babysat from ages 9-24. I have been referenced as the "baby whisperer" for an acquaintance's kid that would cry when anyone held her except her mom (and apparently me). Given the option, I'd rather sit at the kids table than the grownup's table. Of course, this could also just mean that I am a kid and would rather talk about the best way to projectile a pea out of one's nostril than the latest fad diet or Lady Gaga or if the President is awesome/sucks.

Maybe this video is something that only parents understand. My other friend (who also has kids) commented on said video about how cute it was, and there was a litany of other "awww" "adorable!!" and "love it!" comments. Maybe I am in the minority. Either that or she has really mean friends who think it is just darling that her boys appear to have suffered brain trauma.

Yikes. I think I might be an awful person. It may be a good thing that my ovaries are shriveling up and my eggs are spoiling by the carton and that I seem destined to be an old maid cool aunt. That is sooooo much better than mommy dearest...

Mortal Kombat

In my quest to find fun new ways to workout, I have been trying the classes at the gym. Tonight's class was a pseudo boxing-karate-MMA workout called Bodycombat. I have to say there were more men in this group exercise class than any other class I've ever taken.... and I can understand why. It was like we were in a real-life version of a video game.

Imagine kicking and punching to this soundtrack:

The songs played didn't have the actual words "Mortal Kombat" to them, but you could use your imagination. And clearly these dudes were imagining themselves as such.

Hiiii-YAH!!

and

HUUUUHNAHH!!!

and

I am fierce ninja warrior!

so that they could ultimately (never) get this

Who, by the way, in reality would look more like this

Why do the women in video games always have huge inflated fake boobies that always seem to be missing nipples? Either that or the doc botched the job so bad the nips are no longer in the center of the boob...

I think I will file that with the questions of why some men think porn is real, why some people watch Fox News and think it is real, or why some people think global warming isn't real. *shakes head* *rolls eyes* *eats a cookie*

Call Me Sherlock

I am a little too good at cyber-stalking. I mean, researching online. If there is something to be found on a certain someone and I want to find it, I will. It's how I found out last year that my ex had a new girlfriend almost immediately after he dumped me. It's how I found out that a different ex (who somehow in five years of dating was never able to take me back home with him) took the very next girl to his high school reunion. I figured out who a guy was from OK Cupid with just a username and a picture. I am very very very good at finding things.

Found them!

But sometimes things are best left un-found.  I may or may not have had a drink or three and cyber-stalked browsed around my ex Todd's social media, which led me to his friend's social media, which led me to a post I really didn't want to read. Ugh!! Bob Newhart really says it best: "Stop it!"

Watch the video. Six minutes of genius. A good reminder to us all.

Fly away, little trolls

Redbull Tinder gives you wings, apparently.

I saw maybe 3 or 4 guys with these "wing" pictures before I started snapping screenshots. They are almost as prevalent as dude with dog/tiger/kid/faraway land pictures.

I mean, really? Ugh. Get me some Redbull, stat, so I can fly the f*ck out of here.