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Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Sneaky Little Bastard Spider

A very persistent spider is attempting to take up residence on my front storm door.  I ignored it at first. Mostly because I couldn’t deal. Then I had my Cleaning Fairies (best money spent ever) wipe down the door and remove all the webs. Voila! Problem solved.

The next morning I got up and much to my dismay, a small web had been spun in exactly the same spot, right next to the handle to open the freaking door. (Please note, if I used my front door more often, this would have been addressed much sooner.) I could not let the large web conglomeration build up again. I grabbed 82 damp paper towels, and with my arm extended to maximum Stretch Armstrong distance in case the little bastard made an appearance, I removed the strands of web from MY door. Voila! Problem solved.

The next morning I got up, and much to my dismay…..wait, I already said that. Ok. Read the paragraph above about seven times.

Finally, after several days I got up, and TADA!!!! No web by the door handle! I’d done it!

Except.

The sneaky little bastard had given up on that location, but not the entire door. He had relocated his web to the exact same spot on the hinge-side of the door. Sigh……I got another wad of paper towels and wiped the webs away (still standing as far from the door as possible, even though I’ve never actually seen a spider during any of this).

Lather, rinse, repeat. It’s been almost another week and he still hasn’t given up. Although this morning he made an appearance (he’s much larger than I’d expected, he should be ashamed of his tiny little web-spinning abilities) and I almost got him. But by then I’d used up most of my 97 paper towels and I wasn’t in full on Spider Attack Mode and he got away, even though I punched him into a ball multiple times. As I said, he’s a persistent little bastard. We will see what happens tomorrow. Hopefully he’s so traumatized by the smackdown that he’s going to take up residence elsewhere. Oh please oh please oh please!!!

Any suggestions on how to crush his spirit, since I failed at crushing him?

Category:

Home, Humor

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Clip this!

 

Soooooooooo some of you may have heard me whine over the last four years that my ex-husband kept all the good chip clips when we got divorced. I fully recognize that this is a completely silly thing to be bent out of shape over.  But if you’ve ever been through your own, you know that divorce brings out the stupid. And ps, he could have let me have a few of them! Every time I dig out one of my shitty plastic clips, I get a little pissed off.

Guess what? I bought my own today. Woot!

 

 

I’m not sure what took me so long – probably just never wandered through the right spot in Meijer before. But I finally decided to buy a cheese grater, since I am  surprised every time I go looking for one and realize I don’t have one of those, either.  You should totally be allowed to register when you get divorced and lose half your crap. I wish I had thought this up four years ago, but for anyone getting divorced now or in the future, please try it – I will back you up! 🙂

 
Now….I have to go find something in the kitchen to open, so I can clip it back shut again. 🙂

 

Category:

Home, Humor, Just W, Relationships

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Thank you for calling the Facebook Help Desk

The scene: My car. Driving. Almost to my dad’s house.

Ring Ring! (Actually the Charlie Brown music – that’s my ringtone.) (Yes, I know it’s really called Linus & Lucy. I just wasn’t sure if you knew that.)

Look at phone, see who it is. It’s my friend Dimples (seriously, his dimples are ridiculous), who never, ever calls me, so this should be interesting.

W: “Hello?”

Dimples: “Hey, hi, how are you?”

W: “I’m fine. How are you? What’s up?”

Dimples: “Yeah, so, I need some help. Like a favor. If that’s ok. Are you sitting down?”

(mild alarm, especially because he’s not one to ask me for help with anything, especially anything that should require sitting to hear about, but also amusement and curiosity.)

W: “I’m driving. So I’m in a seated position. Do I need to pull over?”

Dimples: “No, no, this isn’t nearly as big a deal as I’m making it out to be. It’s just, I feel like you’re my friend who knows the most about Facebook. Is that a fair assumption?”

W: (possibly laughing) “Yes, that’s a fair statement.”

Dimples: “I did something, I don’t know what. I don’t what happened. But somehow I screwed something up and everything is squares. Like I can’t read anything, it’s all boxes. Like computer code.”

W: (likely laughing a little) “Ok, and it’s only doing this in Facebook, not in anything else?”  (thinking perhaps a reboot is in order)

Dimples: “No, just in Facebook. And I don’t know how to fix it, or what I did. I think I was resting my hand on my mouse and I maybe right clicked and something popped up and kind of all in one I accidentally did something and I don’t know what. And it’s all squares. Like I can see a name, but then everything is just squares.”

W: (almost to Dad’s house) “Ok, it sounds like you changed the language, to something with a different character set. I’m not sure I can tell you how to do it over the phone…let me see if I can use Dad’s computer, otherwise I’ll have to cal you back in a little bit.”

(enter Dad’s house, find him at computer. Dimples, still on phone.)

W: (to Dad) “Hi! Are you in Facebook? Can I look at it for a minute?”

Dad: (moving back from computer, looking at me curiously) “Sure.”

(poke around page, find the language settings)

W: “Ok, on the home page, at the top, next to the word ‘home’…”

Dimples: “I can’t see the word home. All I can see is my name and a bunch of squares.” (mild tone of panic)

W: “Ok. Next to the squares do you see a little triangle like a drop-down menu?”

Dimples: “I just see squares. I see the triangle, but it’s next to a bunch of squares.”

W: (laughing) “Ok, click on the triangle and then pick Account Settings”.

Dimples: “I only see squares. Oh wait. I see (page for his band), then Advertise, then squares.”

W: “Ok, click the thing right below Advertise. Then Language will be the last thing in the list. Click edit off to the right.”

Dimples: “I only see squares.”

(By this point, pretty much every time he says “squares”, I’m laughing. Dad is laughing too, even though he has no idea who I’m talking to or what exactly we’re talking about.)

W: “There should be six things listed. Language is last.”

Dimples: “I can see my name. And my email address. And then squares.”

W: “Ok, keep going. Language is the last one.”

Dimples: “Ok. It’s the last one. Is English an option?”

W: “Yes, it should say English (US). OOH! You know what you should do is pick English (Pirate). That’s hilarious.”

(Dad is cracking up)

Dimples: “Let’s just start with regular English and see if it can work.”

W: “Ok, click save changes.”

Dimples: “Is that in the blue box? HEY! That’s it! You fixed it! I think I changed it to computer language or something. Hey, yeah, so what’s new? How are you?”

________________________________________________________________________________________
This is the beautiful thing about being the unofficial Facebook help desk instead of a doctor or lawyer or something – no consultant-client privilege.  😀

Category:

Friendship, Humor

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I love the internet.

I totally didn’t get it at first, back in the day. Like, not at all. Ok, so you could look stuff up. Big whoop. I remember the very first time I got onilne. That awful screeching sound of the modem – ah, kids, remember dial-up? AOL telling me I’ve got mail. And the WORLD WIDE WEB. Oooooooh. What should I search for? How about…..Muppets! Yep, my very first internet search ever was “Muppets”. (This is probably a huge surprise for exactly none of you, if you are friends with me on Facebook. I probably average at least one Muppet-related post/week.)

Ok, so it’s 1994, I’m checking out this new internet thing, I look up “Muppets” and I find some random pictures of Kermit et al. Um. Not seeing the point of this. Why do I need to be able to find Muppet pictures at the drop of hat? (Duh, to post them on Facebook, which hadn’t been invented yet.) I was not getting it at all.

Slowly, over time, I caught on – like the rest of the world. Big time. I remember getting DSL and being able to quickly and easily look up movie times. Which again, wasn’t research to cure brain cancer, or, you know, something important, but at least I was starting to find practical applications.

Now I have FIOS and WIFI and a smartphone and an iPad and I am plugged the fuck in. Unplugging causes severe anxiety. And I’m still not using the internet to bring about world peace, but it has completely changed the landscape of my professional world, so it’s gone well beyond just fun and games and Muppets into the practical and everyday. Plus, you can look up song lyrics and movie quotes in the blink of an eye. Totally rad.

The other day, though I found myself in a momentary panic and the accessibility of reliable information in that same blink of the eye was just what I needed. It wasn’t an end of the world kind of panic, but I discovered that I had missed a birth control pill (FUCK), and I needed to know what to do. I have been on the pill for most of the last 20 years, and I can count on one finger the number of times this has happened before this week. I can be absent-minded and forgetful. I can forget to pick up dry cleaning for weeks. I forget where I’ve set my phone down in my own house on a daily basis. Hell, I can’t even get into a daily routine to take vitamins, even when taking other daily pills, like, say, the one we’re discussing. But I never, never miss my pill. Perhaps because I realize just how important is. And because I’ve been taking it for so long, and I’m so good about taking it, I routinely throw away the information that comes with it when I pick up the prescription. So even though I was pretty sure I knew what to do about the missed pill, I didn’t actually have official documentation.

God bless the internet.

“Sprintec missed pill”  <enter>

(Yes, now you know which pill I’m on, don’t you feel closer to me?)

Poof!

Page after page of specific info, from the manufacturer, doctors, everyday users. All giving me the information I needed, in the blink of an eye.

Thank you, Internet, I needed that. 🙂

Take the pill as soon as you notice, by the way. Even if it means taking two at a time. If you only miss one, you should be ok. Please don’t ever, ever, ever make any decisions based on what I just said – it is totally not my fault if you get knocked up, ok? Google it for yourself, go to some official website to seek your family planning advice. The internet is there for you, too.

This should again come as no surprise, but I just found approximately eight million Muppet pictures I want to include in this post. I was so stupid in 1994; how could I not see the value in this?

I’m done now.  Peace out.

Postscript? Update? One more thought, after the fact…..kind of cracking me up to have used the internet to bring birth control pills and the Muppets together into one semi-cohesive blog post. Hee hee.

Category:

Humor, Just W

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DVRrrgh

I need to stop recording movies on my DVR. I have a bad habit of filling it up with films I heard were good, maybe remember a review of from Entertainment Weekly, wanted to see but missed in the theater, used to own on DVD but lost in the Great War (AKA my divorce, which was actually pretty amicable, but it’s funnier to call it that) and I want to watch again, etc. My DVR is never less than 50% full and usually hovers closer to 70%. This causes me anxiety, because I also have a regular crop of TV shows set to record, and it’s not unusual for it (the DVR) to caution me that it’s going to max out.

Here’s the thing. I’m really good at recording movies. And terrible about watching them. Every few months I go through and delete some things that have been sitting the longest and clearly are never going to be watched. We just passed the one-year anniversary of the oldest recording parked there, “Man on Wire”, a jaw-dropping, fascinating Oscar-winning documentary – so says the DVR menu. I really want to see it. Apparently not enough to push play. Maybe I should watch it right now. It’s only 100 minutes long. I could totally stay awake for that. It’s one of seven movies hanging out. This morning there were nine. I was contemplating a nap this afternoon, and decided to watch a movie from my backlog instead. I picked “The Tourist”.

I had low expectations, even though it stars my boyfriend, Johnny Depp; I knew it wasn’t supposed to be particularly worthwhile. Also, I’m not really much of an Angelina Jolie fan. Sadly, my expectations were not low enough. It didn’t feel suspenseful. It didn’t feel like a fun caper. It just felt like a waste of time. The logical question is why did I record it in the first place, right? Um, did I mention Johnny Depp?

Unfortunately, I feel an irrational sense of failure if I don’t see a movie through to the end. It’s not as though I never turn away from one, but I feel like after I’ve invested a certain amount of time, I might as well find out what happens. The notable exception to this is “Napoleon Dynamite”. I tried. I really did. I wanted to know what the big deal was. But after 20 minutes or so, I decided life is too short, and I turned it off. Sadly, I did not have the same epiphany during “The Hangover”. I kept thinking it would have to get funny, since everyone in the entire world other than Sunshine and my dad think it’s the most hilarious thing since sliced bread. Wait. Sliced bread isn’t actually funny. I might’ve gotten that wrong. Regardless, watching “The Hangover” made me want to poke out my own eyes.

My low-key afternoon transitioned into a lazy evening. Ruby Dogwonkafonka and I were camped out on the couch, ready to watch another movie. This time we chose “Tiny Furniture”, a low-budget indie film about a recent college grad who returns home while she tries to figure out what to do with her life. I went to IMDB to get a little synopsis for y’all, and even IMDB can’t tell me if it was a comedy or a drama. Not that that’s a bad thing, most of my favorite movies are a mix of both. This, however, is not one of my new favorites. Mostly, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to punch each and every character. At some point something has to happen or someone has to be likable for me to, you know, enjoy it. Damn my obsessive need to watch till the end. Many people on Rotten Tomatoes seem to have enjoyed it, but I am not joining their ranks.

So I also have “Religulous” and “Capitalism: A Love Story” in the queue. Anybody want to talk me into or out of watching either of those?

PS, I wrote this last night but didn’t post it till now, so please pretend my todays and tonights and tenses and stuff make sense, k? Yeah, thanks. 🙂

Category:

Humor, Just W

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Friday Night Bliss

 

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

That is the sound of me, sitting on the couch. Ruby Dogwonkafonka is at the other end of the couch. We just ate a delicious cupcake (ok, I ate it, she licked the plate). “Catch Me If You Can” is starting on TBS. I have had my jammies on since 6 pm. Snuggled up with the laptop. It is Friday night. And this is perfect.

There was a time when I would have been mortified by this scenario. Home, alone, on a Friday night??? What’s wrong with me??? Lately, though, Friday evenings have become a cherished opportunity for ME time. I can work a little later (which I like – tonight I was in my office till almost 7) and still have plenty of time to make dinner (ha ha), relax, watch a movie, read, blog, whatever I want, without the tick tock of the clock hanging over my head on a “school night” when I feel pressure to go to bed at a semi-reasonable time. (Run-on sentence much, Wonkafonka?) (Yeah, I just made “run-on sentence” into a verb. Cuz I’m talented like that. And I now think I have more parentheticals in this post than, um…..non-parentheticals?)

I originally had plans tonight with Sunshine and Mourtney, but one of them is under the weather so we rescheduled. And even though I was disappointed, not having seen their lovely faces in far too long other than at the gym, part of me was secretly delighted. It has been seven weeks since I spent Friday night on the couch by myself, and I was starting to get twitchy. Everything I’ve been doing has been fun and wonderful and something I wanted to do, but I didn’t realize how much I’d come to depend on having Friday nights to recharge and just chill the eff out.

My favorite Friday-night guilty pleasure is “Say Yes to the Dress”. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s a TLC show about women shopping for their wedding dress. The original is at an expensive boutique in NYC, the spin-off at an expensive boutique in Atlanta. And tonight’s spin-off of the spin-off, shopping for bridesmaid dresses at the Atlanta store.  It’s ridiculous how much I love this show. I think I like it because it makes me feel sane; the kinds of crazy this show exposes are plentiful. Here’s a sampling from tonight. A bride was having her seven-year-old sister as her maid of honor, and another sister, age 25, as a bridesmaid. The 25-year-old was being a total wench because she wanted to wear a strapless dress, even though, hi, a 7-year-old doesn’t have anything to hold up a freakin’ strapless dress. Another bride had eight million bridesmaids who had all agreed they wanted a dress <$200. The bride identified the dress she loved, and the maids pitched a fit because it was SIX DOLLARS over budget.  Six. Dollars. Maybe two coffees at Starbucks. And for that, you’re going to be pissy to someone you’re close enough to that you agreed to stand up in her wedding, and you’re going to throw this tantrum in front of a TV camera no less? Yeah, you make me feel pretty balanced. 🙂  I never want to admit that I watch it (until now, apparently) but inevitably something so cuckoo happens that I can’t keep it to myself and I have to text Mourtney to rant about it. Which makes her question why I don’t change the channel. But it’s Train Wreck Syndrome – can’t look away!

Fortunately, about as many episodes as they air in one sitting is about as much brainless time that I need before I can move onto something more engaged, like blogging. Or sleeping.   Which I will be doing shortly.

 

Category:

Humor, Just W, Pets

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Just no.

Am I the only person who finds this commercial disturbing???

 

The smell of freshly cut grass sucks you out of a happy, peaceful sleep and into yard work??

What. The. Fuck.

I know a lot of people who like to plant pretty flowers and make their yards look nice and have a pretty lawn and grow vegetables. Sometimes I am even one of those people. But I know NO ONE who prefers working in the yard to happy SLEEP.  You can tell it’s happy because he’s SMILING. In bed.  And then he gets sucked out the window and this is supposed to be a good thing???? I’m not buying it.

And for the record, I didn’t even get that it was the smell of freshly cut grass that was sucking the people out the window. I thought it was some weird cousin to the smoke monster on Lost.

No thank you, Lowe’s, I’ll take my comfy bed.

Category:

Humor

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My dad fucking cracks me up.

We work together, but out of our own homes, and in the morning we touch base via email to let the other know our schedule. Today, he sent mine back to me.

My dad fucking cracks me up.

Category:

Family, Humor, Work

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Sorry, wrong number

I got a text the other day from a number neither I nor Roger (my phone) recognized. Not local. And I could tell instantly that it was a wrong number, because I refuse to get on Twitter. I’ve never had an account, not even for a minute. (More on that another day.) The area code is Vermont. I don’t know anybody in Vermont.

After a while I decided to egg him on for a bit because the whole thing was so absurd, and seemed like it might be good blog fodder. From time to time I got some inspired assistance from various friends. Here’s a transcript of our entire “conversation” to date. I truly can’t tell if he knows we’re both speaking nonsense half the time, or if he’s….I don’t know what. Serious? I didn’t edit anything, including his typos. 😉 If there are no times listed, it was continuous back and forth.

802-275-xxxx
3/30 5:47 pm
I haven’t seen you tweet lately!

Me
Who is this?

802-275-xxxx
Your only follower

Me
Nope, I’m not on twitter.

802-275-xxxx
My bad I thought you had something to say

802-275-xxxx
3/31 11:01 am
I you’re in or near Columbus today, you’ll probably run into some delusional bucknut fans. Pay no attention.

Me
3/31 11:54 am
Again, who is this??

802-275-xxxx
3/31 12:15 pm
The obvious answer would be “me”.

802-275-xxxx
3/31 1:04 pm
Or it could be some tool with a new Android trying to amuse or her self. Why don’t you leave Lamphier a message and ask if he lost his phone.

Me
4/1 7:04 pm
If he lost his phone, how will he get my message?

802-275-xxxx
4/2 12:40 am
Good point. Why don’t you call him on a land line and tell him to call me to get the message.

802-275-xxxx
4/3 8:30 am
Get out there today and make another 95 pointer. Obviously the breed has a shortage of these rare beast.

(At this point I started soliciting input from friends, one of whom suggested I talk back in “lunatic” and provided the following response)

Me
4/3 10:17 am
Better remain inside to guard the aluminum. The chicken seeks to uncover the cordless drill.

 

(Have I mentioned that my friends are hilarious?)

 
802-275-xxxx
4/3 1:27 pm
Alu.inum futures @contracts down 15.03% during last 12 months but KFC still selling extra crispy @ $4.95.

(Input from another friend was to switch from “lunatic” to “Swedish Chef”.)

Me
4/3 3:08 pm
Bork, bork, bork. First we take the chickey and hoopty schnoopty, plukey de feathers then we bork, bork in de pot.

 

802-275-xxxx
4/3 4:04 pm
Amish drivel.

 

(Guess they don’t speak Swedish Chef in Vermont.)

802-275-xxxx
4/3 5:22 pm
This morning before work, I was fidgeting with an hourglass. Recalling that a cardinal rule of physics is “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”, I began wondering what the equal reaction was to the sand flowing to the bottom. It’s been bugging me all day. Any thoughts?

Me
4/3 6:33 pm
Physics, schmysics.

802-275-xxxx
4/3 7:11pm
Three stooges wannabe

Me
Um, no. Not even a little bit.

802-275-xxxx
8:01pm
Why the quote then, Curley?

Me
Schm is my answer to everything.

802-275-xxxx
So if I’m begging you to find another point in her, that’s what you say?

Me
Wha ha?

802-275-xxxx
The Reds have got some big bats this year, eh?

Me
Bats schmats.

802-275-xxxx
4/4 7:14am
It’s coming up on the one month anniversary of performance in Honeybrook. Do you think our friends in the black hats are done erecting the memorial statue?

Me
4/4 12:38 pm
A patrol of honey badgers shall expose the infidels. Memorial acclamation follows the eastern star through its zenith.
Lucky numbers 30, 47, 29, 24, 28, 11

(The inspired fortune cookie was again compliments of a friend.)

802-275-xxxx
4/4 5:28 pm
Why not donate a kidney to dying kangaroo because $250 won’t cover many of his traveling expenses to the kilt tailor?

802-275-xxxx
4/5 5:33 pm
I’ve had a difficult day with other drivers on the road today…lots of not so nice thoughts. They seem to think I want to share the road with them. They are wrong. What are you driving nowadays?

Me
4/6 11:06 am
Something fun. What did I drive in days of yore?

802-275-xxxx
4/6 1:13 pm
Cattle

 
802-275-xxxx
4/6 7:06 pm
Yaks is where it’s at. Twice the protein and less than a fourth of the fat of beef. Get in now or be sorry later. Currently retails at $4 a pound.

Oh yeah….they’re the only bovine that grunts.

Me
4/6 7:12 pm
Yak. It’s what’s for dinner.

802-275-xxxx
4/6 7:44 pm
Mock me if you wish. We’ll see who laughing when McYak serves it one millionth burger.

Me
4/8 10:43 pm
So I was wondering if you might tell me who you are.

802-275-xxxx
4/9 7:09 am
I’m the guy (gender revealed) who spent all weekend thinking about yaks. The problem…the horns. So I’m thinking polled.

Maybe you’re still thinking Icelandid sheep. Go irish.

Me
4/9 8:04 am
Ok, we’ll just call you Yakbag. Don’t text me early in the morning. It makes me pissy.

 

802-275-xxxx
4/9 5:23 pm
Maybe we’ll just call you clueless. Yeah, that and scoring for Dick Dias.

 

802-275-xxxx
4/10 6:38am
Too early?


Fortunately this one didn’t wake me. If someone texts me not long after I’ve fallen asleep or not long before I’m due to get up, it wakes me. If it’s in the middle of the night, I almost always sleep through. Fortunately, 6:38 is the middle of the night for me. 😉

However, it seems that the time has come to disengage. Although if he sends me anything highly entertaining, chances are I’ll be compelled to share. For now…..so long, Vermont! It’s been….something!

Category:

Humor

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W & Mourtney’s Online Dating Tips

For anyone who hasn’t been paying attention thus far, I am an Online Dating Survivor…

A while back, Mourtney (another ODS) & I read an article somewhere about tips for online dating profiles. It was lame, so we came up with our own, with some general dos and don’ts thrown in as a bonus. All of this is based on our actual experiences.

  1. Don’t use a picture taken of yourself in the mirror with a cell phone. This says “I have no friends and have never had my photo taken on a trip, at a wedding, out with friends, at a sporting event…I AM A LOSER.”
  2. Don’t include naked photos and/or photos of your tattoos. Tacky. Tacky, tacky, tacky. ‘Nuf said.
  3. Don’t wear a neckerchief in your picture.
  4. Shave. Your freakin’. Pornstache. I mean it.
  5. Don’t use photos that are out of focus, where you are too far away for us to tell anything other than that you are humanoid, or where you look like a serial killer. Have you considered using one where you’re actually smiling?
  6. While we’re on this subject, we don’t really need to see pics of your motorcycle, truck, boat, car, or other motor vehicles to decide if you’re datable. Your fascination with those objects, however, might deem you undatable.
  7. Use spell check. Girls are attracted to brains as well as brawn so…show us you have some. We make mistakes, too, but your profile is a fairly static document; sell yourself! Also, it’s hard to take your profile seriously when you describe yourself as an intellectual, yet misspell “intellectual”.
  8. In your profile and/or introductory email, please use complete sentences. Punctuation is your friend. Really? I need to explain this? Refer to #7.
  9. Always include a photo with your profile. Don’t give some BS about how you don’t want a girl who is vain. Show you have the balls to look at yourself in the mirror every morning by posting a pic otherwise we will assume the worst and hit delete before even reading what is surely an Oscar-winning email. And while we appreciate not judging a book by its cover, let’s be real – physical attraction is an important component of dating.
  10. Do not include comments about how you don’t want baggage or drama. DUH. No one does. Also, please don’t confuse life experience with baggage.
  11. Definitely do not include comments about how the girl must be “foxy” or worse – a weight range. How demoralizing and downright icky. If you feel these things, fine, but don’t commit to paper. Use your inside voice here – and by that I mean keep it inside your head.
  12. Try to show an interest in something other than hunting, fishing, camping, golf, “mudding” (the absolute worst!), etc. It is fine if these are your interests but don’t expect us to want to do these things with you. Remember you are looking for a girlfriend, not a buddy. I assume you would like your girlfriend to be even remotely feminine? Then chew dip on your four-wheeler with your dudes, not your girl.
  13. Walk the line when it comes to sensitivity. Number 12 cuts both ways. We are looking for a MAN, not someone to cry at sad movies with and bond over shopping and painting our nails.
  14. Don’t tell a woman you haven’t met yet that you have four cats.
  15. DO tell your date prior to dinner what your actual gender is. (I feel compelled to share that this isn’t my story; someone relayed it to me on a date. His prior date had “man hands”.)
  16. Don’t spell my name wrong. Ever. (Also, my name is not hun, sweetheart, or princess.)
  17. Don’t send a LinkedIn request to someone you had a one-night stand with several months ago.
  18. Do have some content on your profile. If you can’t be bothered to tell me anything about you, why should I bother to find out more?
  19. Do not say “tell you later” to fundamental profile questions such as whether or not you have kids or if you smoke.
  20. Don’t rant on your profile. We’ve all had bad experiences; no need to detail them here. Again, you’re selling yourself! Be positive! Fake it if you have to.

This public service announcement has been brought to you by Women for a Better Online Dating experience. You can learn more about W-BOD at http://www.nodouchebags.com. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Category:

Humor, Just W, Online dating, Relationships

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