tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73620580579285598512024-03-13T07:24:50.315-07:00waste of makeup...I will remain nameless.
The men will remain nameless.
I don't plan to censor anything, so if you are offended get over it because I don't care.
You can, and should laugh at these stories I'm offering up.
Tell your friends, and they will laugh.
If you have your own story, let me know and you can guest blog.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-43073368573485114772017-02-03T11:30:00.000-08:002017-02-23T20:19:11.337-08:00Mr. Body Odour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So I noticed Mr. Body Odour on Plenty of Fish and he looked like a nice enough good looking guy. We exchanged quite a few messages, and he seemed really cool and friendly, and witty and nice. We made plans to meet for coffee at a coffee shop where I have had no less than 3 blind dates before. I didn't pick it.<br />
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We have a few friends in common, and right before this date one of his friends mentioned that this guy is really opinionated and that he's been single all his life. I was like, "Ok well you're a good friend to look out for him."<br />
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And he was like... <b>"No, I'm looking out for you, I wanted to warn you!"</b></div>
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Ack... red flags. </div>
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So I met him at a coffee shop, and I walked in and he seemed like he pretended not to see me, like he looked away really fast. He ended up buying me a latte... (whoot, I usually have to pay!) and we sat down and chatted. </div>
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Well, he chatted anyhow. </div>
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I can't say that he talked for the whole 3 hours... but he talked for 95% of the 3 hours. He did ask me a few things about myself, granted. He asked me what I like to do with my spare time, and I said I like to read, travel, hang out, see movies... and he was just staring at me like I said the wrong answers or something and I was like well, I don't know what else to tell you! Then he gave me a <b>LECTURE</b> on how I'm a defensive person and in order to have a conversation he has to ask me questions, and I have to respond to them... that's what a conversation is and I don't need to get defensive. He actually did DIVA hands and turned his body away from me during this lecture. What the Literal Fuck? What a condescending asshole. </div>
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So I was sitting there, trying to figure this guy out. He asked me some questions, and interrupted me each time to ONE UP and talk about himself some more. Asked me why I'm not using my college degree. (I had a career before I went to college, I went for fun, not for a good job prospect). Like, I don't know what else to say about this guy. He was good looking BUT. HE. SMELLED. He smelled like hardcore B.O. Why? Did he not shower? Did he come from the gym? Omg why.<br />
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He smelled like B.O and he was a 42 year old guy that goes to clubs with 20 somethings to feel young again and hit on women. The best years of my life so far were not spent at Barry T's so I can't relate... haha mine were spent on beaches in thailand and climbing the great wall of china. </div>
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I'm really super sick of going out with douchbags that talk about themselves. And I'm 36, I don't have time to waste waiting to see if a guy calls me. So, after he walks me to my car and talks about himself some more, and he just stands there and stares at me. He says nothing. ? Usually you say, ok see you around, or lets do this again, or drive safe or SOMETHING. But we stand there awkwardly, and since I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT I'm like "Ok, so if you had my phone number would you want to call me?" And Mr. Body Odour tilts his head to the side, winces and goes "um, hmmmmmm..... I don't know.... I'd have to think about it..... ummmmmmm..... well I'd maybe call you as a friend, but nothing else." </div>
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Omg. That there was probably the most insulting thing that has ever happened to me. And one time at the dollar store I got called "Sir." </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-79631405219529483332016-06-07T20:09:00.002-07:002016-06-07T20:28:30.247-07:00Mr. Soccer Jersey <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You know, after all these years trying to find a decent guy, I still haven't given up. I've seen 99.9% of my friends get married and live in kitchen-aid bliss. I've seen it all...<br />
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Boyfriend pics, </div>
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ring pics, </div>
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engagement pics, </div>
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tbt pics, </div>
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shower pics, </div>
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wedding pics, </div>
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baby bump pics, </div>
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baby pics, </div>
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2nd baby bump pics, </div>
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3rd baby bump pics </div>
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and for one lucky friend a 4th baby bump pic. I say "lucky" because the kid is adorable but you know... diapers, puke, crying... lol. And I can only imaging what happens to your vagina after 4 kids. </div>
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It's all a little obnoxious. I'm running out of people to unfollow. But the girls doing it don't think it's obnoxious. How are they not sick of it either? Oh. It's all about competition baby. And in this game of "my life is better than yours and I can prove it," I am a loser.<br />
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Of course I'm jealous that they can brag on the internet about things that I cannot... but for now I'm enjoying my nights off and my 10 hours of un-disturbed sleep every single night. However, it still kind of sucks not having someone to take those pics of... <b>(Oh I've got cats.)</b> </div>
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I haven't given up, but I haven't lowered my standards. "But how do you expect to meet someone if you won't be open to anyone?" Well. There are some men that you don't want to be open to. </div>
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<b>A friend texted me the other day "How would you feel about going out with a fish monger?" </b></div>
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What. How is that even possible? #1 I didn't know that was a real job. I figured that fishermen just did their thing... fishmongers are real and they sell fish. However I actually hate fish and I won't eat it. Fish are supposed to feed dolphins, whales and sharks and then white people go to aquariums to look at them through glass. And then Japanese people eat them. </div>
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<b>Another friend knows a guy that "does crafts, and cooks." </b></div>
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Hmmmm. That's kind of different. Usually you don't find that combination in straight men. But she said he goes to church, so I was like ok maybe? She said he's an engineer, so he definitely wouldn't be after me for my money. I'm laughing as I say that. And this is what happened. He emailed me mentioning that our mutual friend wanted to set us up and that he doesn't like blind dates. In fact he hates them and called them "trainwrecks". So I of course offered to dress up in a lady-suit and he could pretend to interview me for a job if that would put his mind at ease. He politely declined, but asked me out for coffee and said "I'll be the one in the soccer jersey and the ball cap." </div>
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<b>That just gave me the creeps right off the bat</b>. I pictured sitting across the table from this guy wearing this jersey and I was like, ok this is not going to work for me. (for good reasons... stop judging). I ran this past a few friends and they were like honey no. I was like exactly. Because this. </div>
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I shower for dates and put on makeup and clean clothes. I definitely put more effort into going on a date than I put into going to Walmart. And there are plenty of guys in Walmart in soccer jerseys. I actually TRY to impress the guy I am meeting with more than my sparkling wit. And this guy just GETS to roll out of bed, throw on a jersey and a CAP and meet a gorgeous girl. How fair is that? And if a guy doesn't put any effort into a first date... what's next? Using toilet paper as a coffee filter? Opening a case of beer and calling it a night? Like come on buddy if I'm not worth even combing your hair for then you are not a dateable man. </div>
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And I am a very worthy woman. I have the vagina of a 20 year old! I am financially responsible for myself! I am fucking hilarious! And I don't drink or do drugs! I am definitely worth a shower at least. So I messaged him back saying no thanks, I feel like I am not attracted to guys who put no effort into meeting a woman. And I included a link to a REALLY great article about what to wear on a first date. </div>
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Never heard from him again, lol. I guess he didn't read it. But you can! Click below to up your game. </div>
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<a href="http://www.artofmanliness.com/2011/05/24/what-to-wear-on-a-first-date/" target="_blank">Behold.. the Art of Manliness</a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-59087323803456573792015-09-10T23:28:00.000-07:002015-09-10T23:28:39.782-07:00Mr Sweatpants. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I haven't posted in a bit because I went on exactly 3 dates with exactly 3 losers in 2014 and it was so depressing I almost couldn't write about it. But I just got home from another disgusting waste of time date, so I was like... ok... what's in the archives?<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Mr. Sweatpants. </span></b><br />
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I found myself <strike>shopping</strike> checking online on the dating sites to see what's what. Not much to be honest. I find that on sites like "Plenty of Fish" people click the "Christian" box when they are a) not catholic, b) think they should click it so they can go to heaven, or c) click it so they get more people looking at their profiles. Either way if someone makes no mention of God in their profile, I usually skip it. We talk about what's important to us and I feel like that should be on there.<br />
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I exchanged a few emails with a guy... lets call him Mr. Sweatpants. He seemed nice, normal, a little boring but it's honestly hard to tell without meeting someone in person. I just like to get it over with asap, so since I found myself working at an outdoor festival this summer- I was like hey come on by and say hi! (Not my best move...)<br />
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He said that he would come check out the festival, and I showed my friends his profile picture and said to watch out for him. Unfortunately they saw him before I did! They told me they saw a guy in sweatpants riding a bike around. Oh man. Sweatpants? I don't know the logic behind that decision.<br />
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I'm not a guy, but... would you think it makes a good impression to<br />
a) be dressed like a 5 year old child?<br />
b) give the impression you have been sweating?<br />
c) have a pork sword flopping around like that?<br />
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And no... they weren't cool sweatpants as per the fall 2014 fashion season. They were forrest green and didn't match his shirt. So I am pretty much automatically turned off by this. No effort at all to look nice or clean when you meet someone. Plus, he rode his bike right in my booth, (NO!) and interrupted me with customers, and basically made an A.D.D nuisance of himself. After a long, boring monologue about a forklift... he got on his bike and rode away. But then he came by and offered me some fruit. I don't know where he got the fruit, but I know better than to accept fruit from a guy in sweatpants on a bike. And I never saw him again.<br />
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Fast Forward a year later... and my friends saw him milling around at my work, so what do I do? I hide under my table. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-26614120205378771692014-10-06T23:58:00.000-07:002014-10-06T23:59:35.098-07:00The Loch Ness Monster <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From Ireland I went to Scotland. The land of manly accents and calf muscles. I had no idea that the National animal of Scotland is the FLIPPING UNICORN. How bad ass is that? They don't even exist.<br /><br />Today's activity! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br />Take out a pen and paper and write your top 5-10 perfect man characteristics. Don't be shy. I know that they're already brimming on the edge of your cerebral cortex and you've always wanted an excuse to write them down but haven't because you're scared your boyfriend will find the list and use it against you. Maybe break up with you and return your birthday gift to the store.</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">So write them down now. DO IT NOW!!!</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Then hold it up to my list to see if we are twinsies.</span><br /><br /><b style="border-collapse: collapse;">Imaginary Man List:</b><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Dark hair</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Green eyes</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">5'9". Also acceptable 5'7", 5'8" and 5'10".</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Nice shoes that aren't Tom's shoes.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Sexy forearms and calves.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Sexy Scottish accent</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sense of humour<br />Over 30<br />Has a car, house or a credit card.<br />Super flirty all the time.<br /><br />Twinsies? No?<br /><br />Whatever is on your list... I actually don't care because this blog is about me anyhow. So the odds of meeting someone who embodies this list is pretty rare. I count my lucky stars that my expectations are so low that I found a match. Notice I didn't list an IQ or education or anything?<br /><br />So I took a bus tour of the Scottish countryside. I figured it would be mostly like the ones I took in Ireland- full of old people and lesbians. But no! I didn't notice that the slogan of this tour was "wild and sexy" and thus attracting young people!<br /><br />Note: I was almost the oldest person there but because of my converse, skinny jeans and toque no one guessed. Thanks <a href="http://www.forever21.com/shop/ca/en" target="_blank">Forever 21!</a><br /><br />The drivers on this tour were two smoking hot Scottish men. Shortbread wrapped in plaid. Like the full meal deal super sized. Braveheart in 2014... just not Mel Gibson style (man he's old). And because I get motion sick I always sit up front. On the drivers lap. Just kidding. But spending a week chatting with men who were born earlier than 1985 was extremely pleasant. I had forgotten that people in their 30's know lots of things that I know and we can talk about those things. For example, these guys saw Train spotting and the Matrix in the movie theatre. Probably <a href="http://www.bttf.com/" target="_blank">Back to the Future</a> too, but I didn't ask. I just figured they grew up wrestling bears in the Scottish wilderness with muscled forearms.<br /><br />But I digress. So by now you remember I don't drink alcohol. But in the United Kingdom where the national animal IS A FLIPPING UNICORN... I drink. That's right. All my friends that are Pentecostal perked right up! Haha. Am I wrong? But yes. I drink in Scotland. So what you do if you are in AA is go to the bartender and get them to pour a bottle of non alcoholic Becks beer into a glass. Bingo. Nobody makes fun of you for not drinking alcohol because it looks like you are! It's super easy to make people think you're drunk too. Just smear your eyeliner around, be all sweaty and swear a lot. I'm really good at this because that's how I am in real life.<br /><br />So I spent my nights in the pub with the hot Scottish men. One of them was eye candy and all the 20 year olds wore low cut tanks and shimmied and crowded around him, and to tell you the truth I sat there and made fun of them with the other Scottish guy. Who basically was everything on my aforementioned list.<br /><br />Please remember by now my friends and family think that I am some sort of weird Christian nun (who swears a lot) or a lesbian (who can't get a girlfriend) so it's perfectly ok for me to be flattered by a smoking hot Scottish man who says things like "I've always wanted to see a Canadian beaver" while giving me saucy looks in the rearview mirror. Or my personal favourite, "Would ye like to see ma loch ness monster lass?"<br /><br />So after chatting with this guy and telling him about my life back in Canada... He stops me and says "You're quite the lone wolf now aren't you lass? Why don't you take the night off and join me in my room for a wee spell?"<br /><br />Oh man.<br /><br />Being invited to a hotel room of your fantasy man is the ultimate offer. It's like if you were visiting L.A in the 90's and Brandon Walsh or Dylan McKay invited you to one of their rooms to listen to a tape. Or if it were 1989 and you went to a party hosted by the New Kids on the Block and Donny Walberg asked you to rebraid his rat tail. Or if it were the late 90s and Jordan Catalano left his plaid shirt casually in your house and you sleep in it everyday for a week and go out and smell 40 different mens cologne samples at the Bay to try to match the scent so you can buy yourself a bottle and spray all your pyjamas every night. (And your pillow). So it's like that.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">And for a girl this damn old it's pretty tempting. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">I've seen quite a few ladies in my age group settle for men that absolutely don't deserve them, or have one night stands that broke their hearts... sometimes left them as single moms. My heart goes out to these situations because it's easy to take your eyes off the Cross and just go with it. So I'll be honest. I was absolutely tempted to join this hot hot man in his hotel room. I really only had a split second to decide. I thought to myself... "Is this really what you want to do?" Answer... "Heck yes, actually." But... "Is this the kind of woman you are?" Nope I'm not. I would have regret it for the rest of my life most likely and been heartbroken. I told him that he was too drunk for company and I went back to my room alone. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">And I cried for two days. I hiked up a volcano that morning and stopped every five minutes because I couldn't see where I was going. The next morning, I climbed it again but I didn't feel any better. What can I say? Sometimes life sucks and you don't get what you want and you don't know why you don't get what you want. But you just have to keep trusting that God has your best interests at heart and that when you're not looking out for yourself, He probably is. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">And of course since that day I keep wondering (obsessing) about the context of "Lone wolf." </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;">Really? Lone wolf? Coincidently those two words would make excellent knuckle tattoos. </span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-68501553734423238992014-08-30T21:31:00.000-07:002014-08-30T21:31:22.795-07:00I kissed the Blarney Stone, and I liked it. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ok so after Dublin I went around and ended up in Cork. They don't make corks there. That's Portugal. Cork was a typical tourist town to be honest. Lots of shopping... and no starbucks. I spent 2 days there and saw pretty much everything. So I decided it was time to visit Blarney Castle.<br />
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A lot of the time people brag about kissing the Blarney Stone but no one really knows what that is.<br />
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Think about it. Do you know what it is?<br />
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I thought so.<br />
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But it's true. It's a stone. And it's attached to a castle. The word "blarney" means "clever, flattering, or coaxing talk" and let me tell you... it's all true. Just wait until you hear about the guy I met while kissing this famous stone.<br />
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I got on a tour bus in Cork to get to Blarney Castle and wouldn't you know it? The only empty seat on the bus wasn't next to a granny. It was next to a guy that lives 3 hours away from me in my real life. At first it was nice to chat about home and things but I started to feel like I had deja vu. I felt like this had happened to me before... same conversation, over and over. I couldn't shake what it was. It was really bothering me until I realised that I WAS ON A BAD BLIND DATE.<br />
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This guy bragged non-stop for like 2 hours on the bus about how he is mega rich, he gets tons of women in Calgary because he buys them all drinks at the club. He told the whole bus that Ireland was so different because when he offers to buy women drinks in Ireland, they say no. (I'm going to add a "Get lost creep" to that but he didn't say that part). From what people told me in Ireland, if you accept drinks from a guy he expects you to put out. Is that true in North America? I haven't been to a club since 1999 so what would I know? I personally wouldn't drink anything a greasy oilworker gave me no matter where I am, because I'm ALLERGIC TO ROHYPNOL. He actually said that he hasn't seen much of Ireland except the pubs. Why would you fly to a different country and not look at anything? Oh. Cause he's "rich" with oil money and Fort Mac got boring. Then he bragged about how he is the best at everything. He actually said that. He said that he could have gone pro as a skateboarder, he can write code and could work for google, that he thought about doing astro physics but that he didn't want a desk job. He even bragged about how curly his hair was. He mentioned that even though he spends all his money on women, he's "still looking for that special someone" and did I want to go to the pub tonight? A lot of the time I'm glad I used to be an addict and can say: "Sorry, I'm in A.A," as the best excuse EVER not to go to a bar.<br />
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Ugh. Let me say that my cheeks were sore from smiling and nodding and I couldn't wait to get off the bus. When it pulled up on the castle grounds I found the nearest Asian tourist and asked if they would take selfies with me. This took half an hour and by that time I figured that I lost him. But then my new Asian friends wanted to hang out so that was really cool actually, and we went to find the big bad blarney stone.<br />
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To get to the stone you have to climb up these teeny tiny claustrophobic spiral staircases (like much of Europe) and go out on the roof and find the old men. These old guys hold your legs while you go on your back, slide backwards, and dip down backwards upside down to kiss a stone covered with cold sore germs. My Calgary Gem was already there. Waiting for me. Or so he said... "I was waiting for our make-out session, what took you so long?" OMG. So I did the stone thing. And then I couldn't shake the guy! He just followed me around the grounds and it's hard for me not to be polite in person. It's way easier for me to be a jerk here, but my snappy comments don't always come out in person. I usually make a weird face and talk extra perky and tell people I have to go to the bathroom to get away from them.<br />
<br />
So on the grounds there's a poison garden. And my thoughts turned dark. A little nightshade could really do the trick.<br />
<br />
But alas... another bus ride home listening to him brag about how intelligent he is and how rich he is.<br />
<br />
MEN do you really think that this is impressive? No matter what walk of life you come from bragging is super rude and it just shows how insecure you are. Isn't it better to be yourself and let people be impressed with things that last? Like your consideration. Your sense of humour. Your thoughtfulness. It might be old school of me but if I have a conversation with a guy and he doesn't ask me a single question about myself... he's not into you. He's into HIM. And I've got better things to do than validate egos. Like kiss a stone in the south of Ireland that a million of other tacky tourists kissed so they can brag to people that "I kissed the Blarney Stone."<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-64075559264790103582014-08-13T16:55:00.001-07:002014-08-13T16:55:29.400-07:00Wee Little Spanish Man. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So from France I went to Ireland! I started in Dublin, at Issac's Hostel. This was an interesting one... let me tell you. It's a meat market. They have the Internet in the lobby only, and pump the music super loud so it's like an all day party! So because people are forced to be out in the open when they are checking emails and the facebooks it's the perfect opportunity for all the creepy men to skeeze on the girls.<br />
<br />
I was downstairs for maybe 10 minutes, loathing the pop music and I noticed a guy. He started off on the other side of the room, and he slowly worked his way over to my table. Picture this: a teeny tiny Spanish guy with a Mohawk and soulful black eyes wearing a white wife beater. It gets better. He was drumming on the table with drumsticks. I think he was trying to impress me with his tapping skills, but he probably just wanted to tap the new girl.<br />
<br />
Because I've been trained in Intercultural Studies... and with my job I have a "friendly" switch, I turned it on low and made some conversation. He said that he was in Dublin looking for a job and learning English. From what I understand the Irish men can't even find jobs in Ireland, so I think he's on the wrong island. After a while I got tired of the broken English (sue me) and the whole staring down my shirt thing and trying to grab my leg and I was like "Hey dude.. I'm just leaving now but where should I go in Dublin? Any good sights to see?" I don't know if that's considered a pick up line because I was trying to drop him... but his response was "Ok, tonight WE could go to this bridge at midnight, it's very beautiful. But not as beautiful as you."<br />
<br />
Hold up. That's not what I asked. I think I made a face at him and said "I'm allergic to bridges" and he was like, "Ok, well I'm sure we can find something to do, I will call you tonight." Except that I didn't arrange an international phone for this backpacking trip. So I let him add me on Facebook so that the conversation could end... I could leave... and I didn't seem too rude.<br />
<br />
So I went out by myself, because I like being by myself... and I hit up a Starbucks for the wifi and clicked on this guy's FB page. HOLY HELL HE WAS 22 YEARS OLD. For two minutes I was like, "Ok, great... the 40 year old guys haven't zoned in yet and guys in their 20's are still interested." Then I did the math. And wanted to throw up. I deleted that baby face and prayed I'd never run into him at the hostel! ACK!!! SICK.<br />
<br />
I mean... sick. It's meant to be half your age plus 7. He didn't quite make it.<br />
<br />
I soon realised that the Spanish guys in Ireland can't go more than 3 hours without having sex otherwise they might DIE as the legend goes. I did end up running into babyface in the hostel. He was shaving in the hallway at 11pm at night. So, I guess that's courteous to that nights S.T.D fest. He was like, "Hey you still owe me a date blondie!" My reply... (my favourite) "The only thing I owe you is a spanking, because I'm almost old enough to be your mother." He just stared at me. Didn't move. And then he backed away into his room.<br />
<br />
After a week in Dublin I saw absolutely everything that exists... and went onto Kilkenny where my hostel had black mold in the bathroom, the floor was mushy, hairs in the bathtub and dirty towels hung up. The sheets had blood on the bottom, as well as on the pillow and wall. The room was generally grimy... and it was deserted. I was the only guest, and I slept with the lights on and the skeleton key in the lock so I would know if someone tried to break in.. (my key would have fallen out on the floor) and in the morning I was actually locked into the creepy hostel and I had to kick the door down to get out.<br />
<br />
And THAT was still more preferable to skeezy Spanish guys trying to get in my pants.<br />
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<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-81862032581991351252014-07-11T15:24:00.004-07:002014-07-11T15:25:53.280-07:00In case you didn't know... the moulin rouge is topless. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
I've always wondered what kind of person has absolutely no personality or imagination and needs to google "Top 10 date ideas" to find things to do. I guess that's better than taking a girl to a McDonald's drive thru or making her watch you do martial arts. But according to <a href="http://ca.askmen.com/top_10/dating/top-10-first-date-ideas_1.html" target="_blank">ASK MEN</a> this is the top 10 things to do on a date:<br />
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Bowling.</div>
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Hiking.</div>
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Aquarium.</div>
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The Theatre.</div>
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Driving Range.</div>
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Art Gallery.</div>
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Local Music Show.</div>
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Play Tourist.</div>
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Ice Skating.</div>
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Try new Cuisine.</div>
<br />
<br />
Well. There you have it. The limits of a mans imagination. I've done all these things on dates, with the exception of a driving range. If I'm going to be hitting balls with a stick on a date it's going to have to be vandalism in order to have fun. Is it just me or is golf not the most boring sport? Dude that's BORING. Go burn some flipping calories already like a smelly sweaty man that's playing a real sport. Of course I'm pretty sure that guys take girls bowling to check out their bums without being noticed.<br />
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So I made a list of things NOT to do on a first date. </div>
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Go golfing.</div>
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Eat ribs.</div>
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A family event. </div>
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Sports bar. </div>
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X rated movie. </div>
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Strip club. </div>
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Funeral. </div>
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McDonald's. </div>
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Go to a topless show. </div>
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Of course these things SHOULD be common sense. But you know. </div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
When I was in Paris there were probably TENS OF THOUSANDS of happy couples there, all doing the same things that I was doing. Romantic walks, visits to art galleries, eating in tiny cafe's, strolling, people watching, sketching, french movies, shopping... etc. People kissing everywhere. I saw so many tongues I felt like I was in a butcher shop. I started to kind of feel lonely a bit... it kind of sucks going to one of the most romantic cities in the world by yourself.<br />
<br />
So I decided to treat myself and take myself on a date to the theatre! The Moulin Rouge in fact. It was super expensive even though I bought the ticket without the drink option. I loved the movie, and I was super excited to go to the show. For some reason... I thought it would be similar to the movie.<br />
<br />
First they led me into a grand theatre full of happy people (on dates) with cute little tables with tablecloths, red lamps on the tables and glitz everywhere. Then they led me to a bare table under the stairs in the corner where you couldn't see the stage. I was like "Dude.. I don't think so." And they pretended not to understand English. I decided to just suck it up and not complain. Then they seated this old Russian lady in a huge puffy sweater with bad breath next to me to be my date! YAY! I guess that singles have to stick together. She showed me all her photos of all the same attractions I went to on the worlds slowest, smallest screened digital camera from the 80's. And she would NOT take a mint. I offered twice.<br />
<br />
When the show finally started and the room was full of happy couples holding hands across the table and making Disney eyes at each other and the Russian lady had stopped playing footsie with me I realised something. THIS WAS A TOPLESS SHOW. I'd like to make a joke about not seeing that much silicone outside of home depot but they were not fakes! I was pretty stunned. I had no idea that the show was topless but you know... it's not something that I've never seen before. I have two of them myself and I see them all the time. And that was the moment that I was pretty relieved that I wasn't on a date. WHO TAKES A DATE TO A TOPLESS SHOW? SERIOUSLY? SO AWKWARD.<br />
<br />
After spending 99 euros on a show where they lip sync to English songs, can't afford to buy the dancers bikini tops, get treated like a second class citizen seated in the worst seat in the theatre... I thought back to some of my bad dates and realised that some weren't as bad as this experience. And then the stage of the Moulin rouge turned into an AQUARIUM FULL OF YELLOW PYTHONS SWIMMING IN WATER and as a topless women jumped into the tank to swim with them... I realised that this was probably the worst date I've ever been on. Had a guy ever taken me to a topless show where we sat in the worst seats and the room was full of snakes I probably wouldn't call him again. And I would have done exactly what I did... left early, went home to my hostel alone and marvelled at my own stupidity.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-22251046213898183572014-07-07T20:20:00.000-07:002014-07-07T21:42:48.264-07:00 A German Breakfast in France. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oh my gosh. So I went to France.</span></div>
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The thing about France is that EVERYTHING is a tourist attraction. Moulin Rouge, the Louvre, Eiffel Tower... crawling with people. Everywhere you go you can't really get a moments peace and enjoy yourself unless.... you get up at 5 am in order to get there before everyone else does. I tried this. I'm not a morning person by any means but I did it. Woke up at 5, and was downstairs for breakfast by 6.<br />
<br />
The man that served breakfast in my hostel was really creepy. And really French. He would watch you to make sure you only took one croissant and one day he frowned at me taking 2 sugar cubes and on my 6 am early day he saw me coming and REMOVED the sugar before I could take one. Then he pretended he didn't know English when I was like, Dude I can't drink this tea without sugar.<br />
<br />
So this random German guy offered to share his honey. I usually don't accept food from strangers but since he was using it I thought it was probably ok. And part of travelling is getting out of your comfort zone and eating mysterious honey and talking to strangers at 6 am is definitely out of my comfort zone.<br />
<br />
So I asked this guy why he was up at 6am and he said he hadn't been to bed yet, because they were at the club all night and then drank "many bottles of wine" outside on the sidewalk. His English (for a drunk guy) was actually really good, and he was actually really good looking. Tall, blond, beardy, strapping German lad. All he was missing was the Laederhosen! They don't make guys like that in Canada... and if they do they're in the woods somewhere because I can't find them.<br />
<br />
So my new German friend invited me to his room to drink "bottles of wine" with his friends. Hell no. I was like "Oh, sorry I'm meeting my friend, I'm going to Versailles today!" I mean... it's 6am. Do you really think I have time to become a statistic and miss my grand tour of Europe because I'm skinned alive in a creepy hostel in france? Actually... it was a really nice design hostel.<br />
<br />
So instead my new German friend invited me to come to Germany! "You must come to Germany and stay at my house and we will go to nightclubs! Germany has the best clubs and we will dance!" He gave me his phone number in Berlin... his address... he told me which train to take and all that jazz. I was kind of regretting putting makeup on.<br />
<br />
(This is the best part.)<br />
<br />
Then he made a sandwich and beat boxed for me. When I say that he "beat boxed" what I mean is that he said "boots and pants and boots and pants and boots and pants and boots and pants" over and over again... while doing a rave dance shuffle and eating a sandwich.<br />
<br />
And I never saw him again...<br />
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<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-4492965851615915372014-06-19T17:43:00.001-07:002014-07-07T21:43:48.553-07:00Vegan Man. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was on the phone with a friend and she mentioned she wanted to set me up with a friend of hers. I didn't say anything, and changed the subject. Then she mentioned it again another day and I reminded her that I only date Christian men. She said "Oh, he believes in God!" which could mean many things actually. A lot of people believe in a higher power, or a god, or demi gods, or Hindu gods, or that God is a woman or some kind of different theology or the power of goodness or something like that. There are so many options out there, and we are all different types of people. But I prefer the guys that believe that Jesus is the one true way to salvation... in a nutshell: basic Christian beliefs. So my standards might be high to some people, or low depending on how you look at it. <br />
<br />
She ended up texting me three pictures of him.<br />
<br />
The first one was totally normal, but sunglasses so he could have been anyone off the street. Jack black probably.<br />
<br />
The second one was a sports picture, and it looked like he was punching himself in the face, tongue out, with crossed eyes.<br />
<br />
The third one was probably from high school so almost 20 years ago... and he looked like Harry Potter.<br />
<br />
All the pictures looked like three different people, so I had no idea what this guy could look like and I really wasn't planning on going any further with it.<br />
<br />
So, I'm at the mall the day before I leave on a backpacking trip to the UK and Europe. I'm like totally in a hurry and I'm like, "I need to buy an iPad or SOMETHING!!!!!!" so I had no makeup on, unwashed hair, wearing clothes that I actually did sleep in the day before. I probably smelled terrible, no accessories and the day before I got a bad haircut where she actually scalped my bangs. I honestly don't think that I even brushed my teeth. (Shut up, you've done it). AND then I get a text!<br />
<br />
"Hey, want to meet my friend? Come to this vegetarian restaurant in an hour!"<br />
<br />
Oh man. So, I go to Sephora and slap makeup on my face, find some body spray at Target that makes me smell like a baby prostitute, and scour my car for abandoned earrings or necklaces or something to make me look less like a hobo.<br />
<br />
Or I could have just said no. But, I was curious as to what this guy was like and I'm always up for a blind date. Even though it wasn't a date... BECAUSE MY FRIEND WAS THE CHAPERONE! Every single set up or blind date I've had, it was just me and the guy... I've never had a set up where my friends come on the date too! Hahahhahaha.<br />
<br />
Literally the most awkward meet that I've ever had. This guy looked NOTHING like any of the three different guys in the photos. He almost never spoke to me, and basically spoke just to our mutual friend. He looked like the typical beer drinking oil field worker that runs rampant in our great state of Alberta, Canada. I'm sure he is a decent person but the only way you get to draw out a shy person in conversation is by being alone with them. Then they are pretty much forced to talk to you... or at least avoid looking at you and make it awkward on their account.<br />
<br />
SO IT DIDN'T WORK OUT GUYS. STILL SINGLE.<br />
<br />
Plus, I threw up all the vegetarian food I ate as soon as I got home. So gross. Pre formed vegan "meat" full of chemicals and deep fried? I thought vegetarians tried to be healthy, but I was so wrong! If my body is rejecting vegan chemical food it's a good thing I didn't respond to Vegan Man's facebook request.<br />
<br />
What's funny is that my bff made an offhand comment a week ago "Oh you know where you can find a lot of single guys? On flights to Fort Mac". Thanks but no thanks.<br />
<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-33325377164748446442014-06-02T20:08:00.000-07:002014-06-02T20:08:05.444-07:00Back in Business...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hey Fans! I've had so many concerned emails...<br />
<br />
"Where are you?"<br />
<br />
"Hey this is funny... anymore dates?"<br />
<br />
"Did you stop dating?"<br />
<br />
"Did you get married or something?"<br />
<br />
WOW. I had 78! emails from fans asking about me and telling me how much they love my horrid dating blog in my absence from posting. Plus my real friends in my real life were asking about it! Sorry guys. I have a life, or somewhat of a life.<br />
<br />
I finished a bachelors degree and I was really stressed out, taking twice the amount of classes to graduate (with honours) and on time.<br />
<br />
Then I laid around and watched netflix.<br />
<br />
Then I started travelling.<br />
<br />
Not much time for frivolous blind dating during that time, and remember that I've dated most of the men in my town already. Although I did have a somewhat blind date before I left on a backpacking trip. I'll post it this week....<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-35031198330542708652013-03-22T17:24:00.001-07:002013-03-22T17:25:52.508-07:00"Proof that man is doomed", or "I never have to date again". <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Women don't need a man to support them because there is welfare. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Women don't need men to have children,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
because there is artificial insemination and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
tons of unwanted Chinese babies to </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
buy on the Internet. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Women don't need a man to protect them because there is bear spray. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Women don't need a man to change a tire because there is AMA. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lastly, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Women </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Don't </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Need </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Man</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Because </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There's </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
THIS. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVOfejVUIOQ/UUz1-6Y3TBI/AAAAAAAAAYc/gXh29_UnQw4/s1600/buce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVOfejVUIOQ/UUz1-6Y3TBI/AAAAAAAAAYc/gXh29_UnQw4/s320/buce.jpg" width="315" /></a></div>
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Available on Amazon. Just google boyfriend arm. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-8804039466865243632013-03-15T00:21:00.001-07:002013-03-15T00:21:09.189-07:00Those Pastors Kids.... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's difficult to know what to write about dating Pastor's Kids (PK's) because they are a whole separate species. For some context, it's not an easy life. They have to not only live up to their fathers expectations, but THE WHOLE CHURCHES EXPECTATIONS. I dated my first and only PK when I was 25. I was naive and thought wow, this guy must be so godly because he's a pastors kid! HELL NO.<br />
<br />
So here are 25 things I have to say about dating THAT pk.<br />
<br />
#1 I was his very first ever girlfriend.<br />
#2 He wanted to make out 2 seconds after becoming "official."<br />
#3 He kept saying "Wow, I have a girlfriend!" over and over.<br />
#4 I always caught him looking down my shirt.<br />
#5 I never actually saw him ever read a bible.<br />
#6 He considered U2 to be a) good, b) christian music, c) equal to God<br />
#7 His nose was bigger than Brazil, and you know those things don't stop growing.<br />
#8 He had to have his whole families approval before he would consider dating me?<br />
#9 I think he compared every girl on earth to his sister, kind of hard to live up to.<br />
#10 He wrote and recorded me a song about how selfish I am.<br />
#11 He always tried to pin me down and grind his crotch all over me.<br />
#12 He talked down to me and told me how stupid I was.<br />
#13 My job just wasn't good enough for him.<br />
#14 He told me that when we got married we could get a dog. I hate dogs.<br />
#15 Did you miss that "we," I hope you didn't. What an ass.<br />
#16 He would take me to his house that he was building and show off.<br />
#17 His idea of flirting, was to put a pantsload of construction signs all over my front lawn. Felony.<br />
#18 He would have rather been at the lake, than in church. Not my style.<br />
#19 One time he stole the tip I left for the server on the table at a restaurant.<br />
#20 Treated me like a piece of ass. (Yes, my rear was really nice back then, but still).<br />
#21 So pretentious you wanted to kick him in the throat.<br />
#22 He just wasn't my type... more BMW than El Camino.<br />
#23 My church went crazy and everyone told us to get married, the best way to kill a relationship.<br />
#24 He jumped in on a family photo, and then people died and it's THE ONLY ONE WE HAVE.<br />
#25 He dated someone for just the heck of it, which is something you should never ever do.<br />
<br />
Sigh<br />
<br />
The thing that makes me so mad about this experience, is that I had a very strict policy about getting physical with guys. Meaning, IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. But, I lowered my guard and I should have never have done it. I don't know what I was thinking. I felt so foolish for so long after this, and I really beat myself up over it. I'm not saying that anything happened that would cause me to get stoned, (biblically!) but you know I just really feel that if you are making out with a guy you're not married to, it's likely that you are making out with someone else's husband.<br />
<br />
My youth pastor had a really good illustration for this. He glued a piece of pink paper to a piece of blue paper. When he tried to separate them, there were bits of pink stuck on blue, it was all torn and messed up. At the time I didn't see the truth in that illustration. There are consequences for our actions. Whenever I think now about lowering my guard with a guy... I remember that illustration and I thank God that he can heal, he can restore, and he can take care of us better than we can.<br />
<br />
<b>Life Lesson:</b> <b>Don't date a pervert. If you date one by accident, dump him no matter what! You deserve better! </b><br />
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Ok, #26 is a bonus. I went to his lake lot to meet his family which was of course awkward to say the very least. The relationship didn't last much longer after this, but I was left with a nice parting gift. We had went out on someones boat, and he lent me his water shoes to wear. 3 days later, I noticed a teeny purple splotch on the top of each of my feet. The tiny splotches turned into HUGE PURPLE SPLOTCHES the size of mandarin oranges. NI HAO. I went to a dermatologist who said that there is no known cause, no known cure, and that they can last 4-10 years. They did eventually go away as well as all my desire to date again... with my luck next time I would get scabies or lice or male pattern baldness.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-75107347051531272612013-01-25T21:41:00.005-08:002013-01-26T13:52:46.089-08:00Catman. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well, my misery has been shared with 20,000 people so far. GOOD JOB ME. I started the blog a little more than a year ago, and I STILL have 2 dates of mine to write about. The best and the worst. I have an appointment with a hypnotist next week to dredge up the memories of the worst one. Eventually the smack will get laid down, but...<br />
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Thankfully I have friends that are serial killers. I mean, serial daters.</div>
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I got a text from a friend this week... </div>
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...and to my delight she said "Yeah, I made an online profile on a dating site. I had a date yesterday, tonight and I have another one tomorrow. I'll keep you posted!" Ok. That's a lot of dates. I don't think I have had more than one blind date a week! It takes me that long to recover... 6 days of hitting my head against a wall and holding the knife parallel to my veins thinking "Should I eat that chocolate bar before I do this? I mean, I don't want to waste it."<br />
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But I digress.<br />
<br />
My friend got a message from Catman. That wasn't his real name, I just named him appropriately. His profile said "I'm a really good person, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">at least my cats like me</span>." Yes. It's a crazy cat MAN! The elusive "cat bachelor" DOES exist... it's not just a myth. However my friend does <b>not</b> like cats, so she cancelled the plans they had.<br />
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8 months later, he messages her again! He had forgotten she turned him down, and sent her a bunch of messages and<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-size: large;"> "winks."</span> She reminded him that she cancelled on him, and mentioned that she is allergic to cats. (lies). He replied "Maybe you could just never come to my condo, or visit my natural path friend." Right. Then. So welcoming of you.<br />
<br />
So she met him at Starbucks and he was 20 minutes late. He was wearing the exact same clothing that they wear at Cineplex Odeon, which was weird because he didn't work there. Her description of his face was "his face was kind of crooked, not sloth, but off, you know?" Love the goonies reference.. She said that his hair was weird, he was weird... just a weirdo. Because he stared at her for an hour. Just stared like he had never seen a woman before. She tried to draw him into conversation, but he just gave her one word answers and it was getting painful. Finally he mentioned that he had had a root canal and she got really excited because finally they had something in common and had 5 minutes of conversation. Then, he stared some more. And some more.<br />
<br />
So awkward.<br />
<br />
After an hour of crazy silence the staff told her they were closing soon so she chugged her coffee as fast as she could and stood up and tried not to touch him (bah hahhahaha... so funny) and said "Ok, yeah, see you later" and ran to her car. She said that he must live in her neighbourhood because she ended up following him in her car! For blocks and blocks, so she "got lost" on purpose. Then went home and used a lint roller.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">"Sometimes you just know, that you can't date a Catman." </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-70653938100016402452013-01-03T14:56:00.000-08:002013-01-03T14:56:24.788-08:00It's a sweaty life out there. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I was little our elementary school had a really scary teacher. His name was Mr. R. (I'd love to use his real name even though he's probably dead and no one would care). He taught grade 6, but had opportunities to terrorise kids from other grades as well. This was the kind of teacher that would have been fired in an instant in today's world, if he tried even one mean trick that he pulled back in the 90's. I'm sure he had good qualities, but I'm grateful that he wasn't my dad.<br />
<br />
One of the lies that he told us that if we pulled a fire alarm, it breaks an ink vial that pours UV ink onto our hand. If the fire department uses their black light, they can see who pulled it because the ink glows. It only JUST occurred to me, that this is not true. A lie that transcends 2 decades...<br />
<br />
Now that we're all grown up and have condo's and bleep like that, a fire drill might be just what you need to meet cute guys in your building. "She" denies that she pulled the fire alarm, but you never know. There <i>might</i> have been a real fire. mmmph.<br />
<br />
His name was "Mr. Pj's." They met in the lobby and discovered that they lived a few doors down from each other. The fire drill was almost an all nighter, in winter, so they abandoned the lobby and went to sit in his car. The problem with an overnight fire drill is that you don't get to see what people wear when they are not supposed to be sleeping. Mr Pj's was wearing pj's. She thought he was kind of attractive, and wanted to meet him in daylight to see what he actually looks like.<br />
<br />
Because of his weird work schedule, he ended up going to her condo at 11 ish at night. And he wore pyjamas again? On a real first date, this guy wore pyjamas. And socks with holes in them. And no shoes. Other people might think she was being judgemental and picky, but not me. I also would have been appalled. (I mean, I did just get back from England where the men wore suits so beautiful I would have hand washed them in unicorn tears, but....)<br />
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YOU DON'T WEAR THIN COTTON PYJAMA PANTS ON A FIRST DATE.<br />
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Unless you both come from the same mental institution.<br />
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She ended up seeing him a few more times and realised that he did have some other quirks. For their second date he took her to a fast food restaurant. Not very impressive, but what was least impressive was that he wore his workout clothes. That smelled like sweat.<br />
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In fact, every single time he met up with her, he wore sweaty smelly workout clothes? They were not clean, they were not washed... it was like he was permanently at the gym. My friend is fairly athletic, so maybe he wore them to impress her, to make it seem like he was more athletic? Pyjamas to work out clothes... but no suits in between.<br />
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A note for the faithful men that read this blog... this is how you get a girl to break up with you. Just smell really bad... it does the trick. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-84179633659587694232012-12-16T14:46:00.000-08:002012-12-16T14:46:10.516-08:00Other people have it worse than I do, hallelujah. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
There's just something about hearing about other people's bad blind dates that automatically makes you feel better about your own miserable dating life. I spent the afternoon growing at least 3 inches taller while I heard these horror stories.<br />
<br />
So my friend managed to have a good blind date last night, although... I suspect that she will find something wrong with him sooner than later. She said that he had an eyebrow ring, which is SO late 90's. I'm always surprised that people still pierce them. It's just not popular anymore. Plus, it leaves a scar. I know this, because I was alive in the late 90's and no matter what- I have the curse of the eyebrow piercing that never grew in. If I want to re-visit my youth I can just stick a safety pin in there. 21 piercings and counting over here. One was stepping on a nail, but it still counts.<br />
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She said that the date went pretty good... with one exception. They were talking about things that are funny in the workplace, and men and women obviously have different senses of humour because he told her fart jokes. Come on ppl. If it wasn't rule #1 to "Never tell a girl a fart joke on a first date" IT IS NOW. That's horrible! You don't know how she's going to take that. She might laugh and think it's the funniest thing she's ever heard, laugh awkwardly and politely and think you are gross, or she'll wrinkle up her nose and check her watch/phone. The odds are the latter. Fart jokes will inevitably happen in a relationship... but usually after "The first fart." This happens at some point in time, and you can make it awkward, or you can make a joke out of it. The other party has a mutual understanding to laugh at the joke, because they know that THEY could have been the farter. Thus, the relationship is opened up to bodily functions and everyone grows closer together.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnAzE5k40Ug/UM5O3kEMViI/AAAAAAAAAXI/kA5c76QI6BY/s1600/sick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnAzE5k40Ug/UM5O3kEMViI/AAAAAAAAAXI/kA5c76QI6BY/s320/sick.jpg" width="257" /></a>Now.... this isn't even the end. I have more.<br />
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She went out with a guy, and he became increasingly fidgety and agitated. She saw that his car was being towed, and told him. He didn't want to go over and do anything about it, for a good reason. He was actually ARRESTED ON THE DATE by the police and thrown into the back of a cop car. I forgot to ask how she got home.<br />
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The next blind date was with a Mr muscles type of guy that liked boxing. He told her that he was almost mugged earlier that day by a homeless man. He actually beat the guy up, and THREW HIM OFF A BRIDGE. She asked if the guy was ok, and he said that he didn't look. So she copied his photos from his facebook and called crimestoppers.<br />
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<br />
Next, she was contacted by a guy online that asked her if her or any of her friends needed some housework done? AND IF HE WOULD BE ABLE TO WEAR THEIR CLOTHES WHILE HE CLEANED?<br />
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I mean... after all that... a little fart joke isn't that bad, is it?<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-14538792396734648252012-10-24T21:11:00.001-07:002012-10-24T21:11:23.511-07:00SHOULD I DATE THIS MAN VOLUME 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sometimes I get surprised by the feedback about the blog. Some friends in NYC that I visited told me that they sat in front of the computer all night reading the blog and peeing their pants. Flattering.<br />
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Another time I gave a ride to a random person, who realized who I was, and screamed out "You write the blind date blog! All my friends would read it during history class when we were bored!" Well, I can't blame you for being interested. It IS history after all. Just the bad kind, like communism or Hitlers to-do list.<br />
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Online dating isn't really working for me this time... I've only met psychopaths so far. READ ON.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">SHOULD I DATE THIS MAN? VOLUME II</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Option 1)</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Hey, I'm James and I'm from Edmonton. I'm a nice guy who likes making people laugh, and I grew up on a farm. I'm not your typical guy.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">On a first date: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">well, assuming that this was a girl that I'd been talking to for a while so it was a real date (a "test things out" date would be like "lunch") I would take her out for something to do like bowling although I never go and I suck at it, or to the driving range to share a bucket of balls, because I never go and I suck at it. Lol, either way I'd have fun. Then I'd take her too see something, maybe live theatre at the citadel as long as it was something funny instead of some story about transvestites or something which they always seem to have playing. Or maybe live comedy at the comic strip, but that depends on the girl because they're pretty uncouth. Next, I'd take her out for dinner, I would say to Japanese village because it's my favorite and they flip knives and stuff but that's more of a third or fourth date thing...too bad. Smokin Joes is pretty good, or else Kyoto Sushi if she's into that because it's the best sushi in town. Then I'd drive her home and if the date went well I'd pop my trunk and give her the flowers. Might seem odd, but it'll catch her totally off guard because flowers are a beginning of a date thing, but to hell with that. Then if the date doesn't go well, they go in the garbage. This way if it doesn't go well, I can give them to my mom or sister or something.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Option 2) </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">The best way to describe me is "mercurial"! I am moving, restless, seeking, and learning. I am constantly in motion, a torrent of wind! I`m intellectual and won`t hesitate to play games with my lover, only child`s play though! I am a great communicator, so get ready to hear everything from pithy remarks to impassioned pleas. Inventive, quick-witted and fun, I may move from one relationship to the next until I find the one which is as smart as I am and able to keep up with my high-spirited personality. The reward for those who lasso me is a free-spirited lover who shines at parties but is also a devil in the bedroom. And I`m also ambidextrous...oooooh</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">On a first date: I'm down for anything... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Option 3)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Your profile says "just ask" but nobody ever answers. "Just ask" what? O-o</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br />Im ranked as one of the top ten Instrumental Composers in Canada (Source: Reverb Nation). Im working on an instrumental album for 2013. Think "Timbaland" meets "David Guetta" meets "Skrillex" meets Katy Perry. Im very busy doing the work of between 20 and 30 people so basically it's not that I don't have a life its just creating music IS my life. I hope to find someone as passionate about creating music as I am, even more!<br /><br />If you pass me over because I chose to live at home instead of living in a sh#tty apartment like 60% of you do then that's your loss. I got money in the bank, I have a car, I could buy you a car and a trip to Honolulu if I wanted to, I dont have to deal with sh%tty neighbors, I have no debt, I own several website domain names I might sell in the future, I have a job, actually 3 jobs because I stock trade as well. Im a very nice guy, TOO nice but you would never know that because you never reply to my messages or read my profile.<br /><br />I'm average height. Husky build. I look intimidating but I'm a teddy bear. By "other ethnicity" I mean "who gives a care what your ethnicity is?"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">On a first date: NOTE: He just left that blank, so I call it foreshadowing. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 21px;">GOD HELP US ALL. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-37072146769822362532012-10-20T21:44:00.000-07:002012-10-20T21:44:18.899-07:00STATS. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's Saturday night, and the closest thing in proximity is a 2 inch red cockroach laying on it's back on the floor twitching in this hostel. So, as you can see if I lower my standards a bit I have a date only 6 feet away. GLORY!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XU5vozgOyV0/UIN6toFleKI/AAAAAAAAAWo/3SjZK7eBFQE/s1600/countries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XU5vozgOyV0/UIN6toFleKI/AAAAAAAAAWo/3SjZK7eBFQE/s400/countries.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>
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I thought I'd share some stats. I love it when new countries read the blog, like Netherlands, United Arab Emirates, and Greece... etc. It's usually just once though, enough to give me a little thrill and wish that I was in those countries eating ethnic food and squatting on strange toilets. But of course the most views are from North America and Russia. But Rwanda? How did that happen? Is anyone in Rwanda even remotely interested in a white girl from Canada that meets Christian guys that are either insane, un-socialised or just plain rude? (and cheap..... don't forget they are cheap).<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--RFasfUtkAo/UIN6q-dn10I/AAAAAAAAAWg/UIebKDQxySc/s1600/stats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--RFasfUtkAo/UIN6q-dn10I/AAAAAAAAAWg/UIebKDQxySc/s640/stats.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I also wanted to share the stats for "search keywords" because I am a little dumbfounded.<br />
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Beautiful Thai women? - I'm not Thai, but I can speak a little.<br />
"Are you warm in that sweater?" - why would anyone google THAT?<br />
Dairy Queen Hulk Cakes. - when did I EVER blog about dairy queen, the hulk or cake?<br />
I don't care if you stand on your he... ??? I can't even read the rest of that sentence.<br />
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Last but not least...</div>
Kids in underwears. - ok perverts, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">stay the hell away from my blog! </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-7935414331690708622012-09-29T17:18:00.000-07:002012-09-29T17:18:11.770-07:00SHOULD I DATE THIS MAN?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So a friend of mine that was single FOREVER and we were all worried she had joined the other team... told me today that she met a guy through friends that met on Plenty of Fish. Apparantly internet dating works... (for some people).<br />
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I peeked at what's available and it inspired a new game called:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="font-size: xx-large;">SHOULD I DATE THIS MAN? </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">fun with cut and paste. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Option 1)</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> I am a single-minded stereotypical asian single man who enjoys the outdoors. I like to travel when possible to shake up the natural tendency of the daily routine. I am fortunate to work among fantastic coworkers in a career that I enjoy. In spare time I like to play chess or read. It will be nice to meet someone just as interesting.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">On a first date: Something not requiring too much idle conversation. How about cycling, tennis, or golf?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Option 2)</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Hey,Currently i am spending sometime in the Prison System. (Edmonton Instn)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I Love Mototcycles, I Enjoy all kinds of Music some new some old, while i'm in here I work out everyday, do some reading even go to church ever sunday. I think I'm a pretty easy going guy, made a mistake and now working on paying the price,<br />I also help my dad fix up Race cars, spent time at the race track.<br />I am Looking for someone to Write to me, send me letters, pictures, maybe get to know eachothe that way (pen-pal)<br />i do not have much computer acss so this would be the best way!<br />look forward to getting to know someone that doesn't judge a book.... </span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">On a first date: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">A 1st date, that would most likely be a visit inside, its a High security place so anyone with a record couldn't come.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Option 3)</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">my hobbies are swimming and roller blading.i also like cooking im a great cook.i mostly find bad girls so i was hoping i might meet a couple good one if i tried online dating for a change. everyone around me is crying most of the time.id love to get married but so far its just a dream.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">On a first date: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">id think first dates are mostly just a chance to see if we can get along,theres so many angry people out there im just looking for some one as happy as i am.no point in dating gloomy girls.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">REAL PROFILES, FROM REAL PEOPLE. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">To be honest.. I'm leaning towards the criminal. </span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-38353753601558756202012-09-04T23:35:00.000-07:002012-09-04T23:35:16.380-07:00Happy 1st Birthday! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BLOG! </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazing. A whole year went by from the <a href="http://mybadblinddates.blogspot.ca/2011/09/44-cold-sore.html" target="_blank">INSPIRATION FOR THIS BLOG.</a> The bad blind date that made me get in my car, and say out loud, "That was a total waste of makeup." You see when girls get older, makeup costs more. You have to decide to either get botox, or buy the good stuff from Sephora. This is also why so many girls over 30 can't pay their phone bills, but look suspiciously taut. (My phone service is cut off at this very minute). (I'm serious, call me and find out). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did you know there is a cream called: <a href="http://www.sephora.com/hope-in-a-jar-P4633" target="_blank">"Hope in a Jar?"</a> It's probably made of the inner thigh skin from a baby goat foetus but it's worth every penny. I've turned 25 for 7 years now and no one knows the difference. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the past year I've dished it out about every single crummy guy I've ever had the bad luck to meet... with the exception of two. I'm saving them for a rainy day. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I relocated to New York City for a semester, but I didn't meet Prince Charming. I met a dirty hippy that spat on me out in Red Hook, countless guys with du rags that were like "Hey.... Momma," a Latino gang member that looked down my shirt on the M train, and a homeless man on a corner out in Bushwick that wore a black puffy jacket every single day and stared at the sun and he wouldn't even take a free Nathan's pizza from me much less my phone number.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came back to Canada and when a guy in the produce section of my grocery store asked me if I wanted to have coffee (After he saw me smelling my asparagus), I was like.. "You know, I honestly don't have the time for this, no matter how amusing or awkward you might be... I just have too much homework to get done." He kind of just backed away. I saw him later by the milk coolers, and I ran down the bread aisle like a total freak so he wouldn't see me. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What can I say? If Hope comes in a jar, life can't be all that bad. Even the bible says that "Hope does not disappoint us..." and you can't argue with the apostle Paul. I probably just didn't read the directions on the label... </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-91991348817212010012012-06-18T22:23:00.000-07:002012-06-18T22:23:30.685-07:00I just bought a ticket to Utah.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Pretty much all the guys on Christian Mingle are ugly. </div>
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The good looking ones are just <i>too good looking</i> </div>
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like underwear models in the sears catalogue. </div>
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Guys in their 30s want to date girls in their 20's. Ouch. </div>
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Guys in their 40's want to date girls in their 30's... </div>
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<b>DEAR GOD SAVE ME. </b></div>
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Now for reasons I don't understand, most of my friends my age are married with kids. They slowly stop hanging out with you, because you just have nothing in common anymore. I mean... you're alone and they aren't. Don't get me wrong, I don't really want to be woken up at 3 am by screaming children or change diapers. I like getting 14 hours of sleep a night. It just sucks that everyone else isn't available to go out all the time. </div>
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So, I made friends 10 years younger than me. EAT THAT OLD PEOPLE. </div>
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But now... they too are slowly getting married and engaged and having kids also. Pretty soon, I will be the only single female on earth, and will be easy pickings for a polygamist cult to pick up. </div>
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It must be so nice to live on a polygamist commune. You are pretty much guaranteed to get married NO MATTER WHAT. You might have to share him with 8 other women, and he might be in his 60's, but chances are he will want to breed it up asap. You get to have sister-wives to hang out with all day while doing laundry and cooking. The clothes are cotton and breathable. The puffed sleeves add a little something. You never have to pay for a haircut again, or buy makeup. You don't even need to take care of your own kids, because they have 9 other mothers. </div>
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I just bought a ticket to Utah. </div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-4963470410939019372012-05-21T19:35:00.000-07:002012-05-21T19:35:00.606-07:00The Strong Man.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This morning I took my first ever self-defence course. I realise that I was ripe for the picking with all the creepy rapists in Brooklyn, considering I fight like a girl. Now I can fight like a girl who has a chance of doing more than peeing her pants.<br />
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Practising the awesome Chuck Norris moves today on the mat, I was reminded of the time I dated a guy who liked to fight. (And yes.. the woman that taught the class DID fight for Chuck Norris in real life so she knows what she's doing). But I digress.<br />
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A few years ago I decided to give a strongman a chance. I met him online, and I kept telling him I wasn't interested, he was too muscled and I didn't want to date a guy that had side effects of steroids. He emailed me so many times to tell me that all his manly parts were fine, and in fact over those emails I learnt that he actually had a brain. No joke, he read books. The classics even. He had a degree in English Lit, and he had muscles... do you know that song called "Walking Contradiction" by Green day? It's so catchy.<br />
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I agreed to meet him for dinner, and I wasn't sure what KIND of muscly guy he was. Was he a beer and hot dogs kind of guy? Was he a burger guy? Turns out he was a SALAD GUY. For crying out loud. The only thing that lettuce is good for is frolicking through a lettuce patch on a Sunday afternoon while you're eating a burger that is so greasy your face becomes luminescent.<br />
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I felt pressured in that 2 seconds to order a salad too. Would he think I was some kind of carnivore? Turns out I don't give in to peer pressure, and I ordered a burger anyway. I kind of felt like he would judge me, but at the same time I was coming off the Dr.Berenstein diet where you eat almost nothing to begin with... so I was ready to stuff my face full of ground beef and cheese.<br />
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I actually really enjoyed hanging with him, and when he asked me if I wanted to go out again I decided it wouldn't kill me. Except that it kind of did. His great idea of a second date was to take me to this martial arts training place... and you see where I'm going with this? No you don't. You really don't. I know you're thinking that he signed us up for a class. That is not true. He only signed HIMSELF UP. And I was supposed to stand there like some kind of soccer Mom watching him. He said that he spends most of his free time there. Ugh. The class was 2 hours. 2 hours of death. It smelled like B.O. Some other muscled guy tried to pick me up, and I gave him Jenny's number. You know... 867- 5309.<br />
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After 2 hours of pretending to be encouraging while he kicked and punched... I was tired. I realised that for all his sparkling blue eyes there was a future of watching a man with an obsession... and I need a guy that is obsessed with Jesus instead. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-22047004122019897282012-03-11T17:34:00.000-07:002012-03-11T17:34:25.621-07:00SURPRISE I've relocated to NEw York.If you've noticed the title of this post, I have moved to New York.<br />
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I know, I dated all the men in Canada, so now it's time to go American. I like American cheese, so I figured it was a good choice.<br />
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Now that I've spent a couple weeks in Brooklyn I have noticed some things. Sometimes you will be sitting on the subway across from either a cranky person, a homeless person, or a drop dead gorgeous hipster. And you just don't know where to look. You really don't want to make eye contact with any of them, except the hipster but I don't know all the "rules" in Brooklyn. It's a whole different culture my friends. I don't want to get stabbed.<br />
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The other day I went to Rockefeller centre, which was actually disappointing because it's really small in person. I bought some deli lunch and sat and watched tourists fall on their asses while I ate. The guy on the bench beside me ended up trying to pick me up. This happens frequently. I think that a lot of guys try to pick up girls that are just a little bit chubby because they think that we are desperate and will sleep with any guy who notices them. This might be true, but not in my case.<br />
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So Mr. Rockefeller was average height, a little chubby, premature balding, and I think he was either Jewish or maybe Greek or some kind of combo? He was wearing a suit, so I thought hey maybe he's rich or something, but then I looked down. His shoes were orthopaedic black running shoes. With a suit. Seriously? I've heard about women wearing comfy shoes on the subway and then putting the heels on at the office but I didn't know men did this too? He showed me where he lives (Astoria), on a map, not in person... and told me about how he was happy as a kid when he was grooming dogs with his grandparents.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/zze13KH85DY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Grooming dogs. Yup. If you sat through that video congratulations. Personally I didn't even watch it myself. That's how much I care about dogs. So Mr. Rockefeller and I chatted for an hour and a half, and walked around the square, him in orthopaedic shoes and me in my heels... talking about anal glands and the importance of maintaining the area. How romantic. We went into the Lego store and he took pictures of me looking at Lego. Then he took one of both of us which was weird. Who does that? Meet a perfect stranger and takes photos of them and puts them on FB? Mr. Rockefeller, that's who. I mean... it's kind of nice, being someones imaginary FB girlfriend. Thanks Honey.<br />
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So this is the thing.<br />
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I had to get going, and I mentioned I had to meet a friend for coffee. (Lies). He told me about a great coffee shop around the corner and yada-blah-blah-pretentious-financial-guy-talk-stuff and then I thought he was going to maybe ask for my number and suggest coffee... but he just said "nice to meet you" and took off. Like who does that? Spends an hour and a half talking to a girl, being friendly and then takes off? I don't get these Americans. Why did he mention a coffee shop in the first place?<br />
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Next time I'm going for a homeless guy. I talked to a guy on the subway that was wearing a dirty bib around his next with food stains, carrying a clear garbage bag full of bottles and a golf club. Should have gotten his number.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-53300748193207754942012-02-28T00:14:00.001-08:002012-02-28T00:18:00.250-08:00"I love you guy," or the time I dated a mormon by accident.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, as most of you know from earlier posts <a href="http://mybadblinddates.blogspot.com/2011/10/34-worst-one-of-them-all.html" target="_blank">my clock is ticking.</a> This means that soon my eggs will not be available for sale on the Chinese black market for that much longer, and my ovaries will implode and resemble shrunken black olives or the<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philosopher's_stone" target="_blank"> philosophers stone. </a><br />
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</div><div>When babies cry, it makes me want to run away. For some reason, I think this means I wouldn't be the greatest mom. I mean, I'm all for giving birth and then selling them for profit, or maybe getting a full time nanny or a stay at home dad or even some old people from the rest home to take care of it while I'm at work. It's just that I like older kids the best. They cry considerably less. But technically I've got to get married first before I have nine-tuplets and smirk in the face of <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2009524/Octomom-My-children-animals-I-hate-babies-says-Nadya-Suleman.html" target="_blank">Octomom. </a></div><div><br />
</div><div>I met a guy that morphed from a super cool dude into a guy that is everyone's worst nightmare. He's called "I love you guy."</div><div><br />
</div><div>I met this beaut at church. A good place to meet a guy, if you are into God and Jesus and all those things like I am. He was soooo funny (when I first met him). Decently good looking, clean shaven... decent clothing and job, and car, and he owned a condo... so you know that he had his life somewhat together. At least he seemed dateable material. </div><div><br />
</div><div>We went out a few times, and that turned into more than a few times. We went to quite a few movies (mostly animated cartoons), and HE WOULD ALWAYS PAY. I think this is why I kept going out with him... guys paying for me is so rare I just wanted to experience it more than once. He would even buy me movie snacks. When I would order a diet coke, he would wrinkle up his nose and say that diet coke was so un-holy. ??? Whatever. He'd get sprite, or water. I didn't know if he was serious, or soda flirting. If there is such a thing. </div><div><br />
</div><div>We went for coffee a few times, and it was exciting to meet someone else that had never had a cup of coffee before. I think I've had a sip once... and I didn't like it. I also drank an "iced cap" from Tim Hortons once, and I threw up out the car window on a road trip to <a href="http://www.jasper.travel/" target="_blank">Jasper</a> on the highway. Anyhow, "I love you guy" would get Jones soda, or water. No tea. No hot chocolate. ??? I was like, whatever... he must like water. </div><div><br />
</div><div>He was always super polite- opening doors for me, he would be nice to the servers, bank tellers... it was refreshing and also kind of weird. What was even weirder was I never saw him at church again. I asked him about it and he said that he started going to a different church. I asked which one and he just said it was on the south side and traditional and I'd think it was boring. Ok, well... I thought that saved me some time. But, it just wasn't a love match on my side and I always had the feeling like he was disapproving of everything I said and did... once he came over and told me that I should throw away 99.9% of the movies that I watch. <a href="http://www.angryalien.com/aa/killbillbuns.asp" target="_blank">Hello... I need that Kill Bill to get me through the day sometimes. </a></div><div><br />
</div><div>So I called him even though I really wanted to text instead.... I was mature for once and talked in person to break it off with him. He took it pretty well, and we said "see you later." But he really meant that he'd <i>see me later</i>, because he showed up at my work asking if I wanted to go out and talk. Sigh. Ok, so I went for coffee with him and he said that it was destiny that brought us together. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I just threw up in my mouth a little. Really? Destiny? </div><div><br />
</div><div>And then he told me that he loved me. Those big brown eyes teared up and I started laughing at him. (I always laugh when men cry, it makes me so uncomfortable). I was like no way, that is impossible, there is a difference between infatuation and love, and it was obvious to me that we wouldn't make a good match. So I broke it off a little firmer and told him not to contact me again. </div><div><br />
</div><div>He texted me probably 20 times that day, and 20 times the next. I finally just shut my phone off and stuck it in a drawer. After a week I checked it and all the voice mail was from him leaving insane messages, reciting love poetry, and one invited me to church to meet his family.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="http://www.mormon-underwear.com/" target="_blank">AT THE CHURCH OF THE LATTER DAY SAINTS. </a></div></div><div><br />
</div><div>All of a sudden... everything made a lot of sense. I just felt so stupid I didn't tell anyone. I still feel stupid, but he's probably married with 5 kids living on planet <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kolob" target="_blank">Kolob</a> by now. I'm just glad I'm in my grannie panties instead of sexy mormon underwears. </div><div><br />
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</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-51438892472668333762012-02-19T12:27:00.000-08:002012-02-19T12:27:14.919-08:00Tips for Single Women... from 1939.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;">Well now I know what I've been doing wrong all these years... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_573792375"><br />
</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_573792375">TIPS FOR SINGLE WOMEN! </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.retronaut.co/2011/10/tips-for-single-women-1938/" target="_blank">Retronaut... via blame betty. </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I personally like the one where you can't <i>look</i> bored, even if you <i>are.</i> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7362058057928559851.post-39561723427391213762012-02-16T20:30:00.000-08:002012-02-16T20:30:08.826-08:00"I read her blog BEFORE it was a book."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6lI-YOOJJLw/Tz3XZU51gCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/ACehk0fUfrw/s1600/write.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6lI-YOOJJLw/Tz3XZU51gCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/ACehk0fUfrw/s320/write.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>12,000 views already?</b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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Thanks for all the emails... I'm glad that I'm not the only one out there that has had so many bad blind dates. At least we can laugh at ourselves... which is the purpose of this blog. I can sit around and feel rejected, or I can laugh at all of my experiences and share them so YOU can laugh too.<br />
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Besides... the more views, the more people that can say, "I read her blog BEFORE it was a book." Or "They made that book into a movie, can you believe it's a <b>true story</b> with all the jerks she's gone out with?" Or something something like THAT.<br />
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Eat that. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com