Oooh! Coupon! Enter Dating Site #2.

I've always been a sucker for a sweet coup.  Purchasing multiple items at Bed Bath & Beyond?  You bet your ass I'm getting 20% off all of them.  Why?  Cause I collect BB&B coups like it's my job.  So you can imagine my intrigue when I came across a coupon for Dating Site #2*.  Three month membership for 80% off.  Woah, I have no idea what the starting price is, but 80% off sounds like it will be about a dollar so sign me the ef up.  This way I won't miss out on any of the gems out there that aren't already on Dating Website #1.  Hooray!  

"Congratulations!  You are now ready to find true love on Dating Site #2! Now to get started just complete this simple questionnaire."  That's when Dating Site #2 made me their bitch.  The self evaluations and 73 questionnaires have taken me approximately 32 hours.  I'm so exhausted/confused/sad.  Out of the many sections I had to complete, I have one favorite.  Let's call it the 'deal breaker' section.  Within this section the site gives you a list of 50 negative characteristics and values, out of which you may choose 10 (and only 10) that would be considered your deal breakers.  No matter how great the guy, you couldn't be in a relationship with him if he were __________ (a workaholic, lazy, mean spirited, fiscally irresponsible, etc).  Easy enough, right?  Turns out there are a lot of things I've been taking for granted as base line requirements that Dating Site #2 needed to remind me of.  Going down the list I had already selected 10 and I was only at #13.  Here's a list of my favorite whatthefuckshit who decided to put that on the list items:

1. Boorishness.  Only one thing came to mind; selecting this item would eliminate Gaston, my favorite Beauty and the Beast character, from consideration.  You remember him, he uses "antlers in all of my decorating".  Boorish indeed.  And I like it.
2. Drugs.  The italicized explanation of this quality reads, "I really can't stand someone who uses illegal recreational drugs".  Thanks for the explanation, Donna from marketing.
3. Poor Hygiene.  "Donna, we're getting a lot of complaints in customer service about dates who smell of their own feces".  To which Donna replies, "Uh oh, Todd, let's add another to the deal breaker list!" (winky smiley face + high five)
4. Sexually Obsessed.  
5. Racist.  They casually list racism in between 'Television Junky' and 'Punctuality'.  Possible blog entry to follow: I was a little turned off when Jimmy Ray was late to our date at Chili's.  Once again, he lost track of time while watching a Toddlers in Tiaras marathon.  Then, typical JR, he started blindly shouting racial slurs throughout the restaurant.  I thought to myself, "Boy, this date is off to a rocky start, hope I at least get some chocolate lava cake out of it! LOL"

None of those made my actual top ten, so that should tell you something about my priorities…and my potential future dates.  

*No, Dating Site #2 is not JDate.  I did get drunk a couple weeks ago and signed up for JDate (and maybe tweeted about it) but then I remembered that I'm not Jewish.  My parent's gay, Puerto Rican, racist neighbors have been insisting for years that I should date and marry a nice Jewish man, but I'm going to hold off on that for now.

Spoiler Alert! - Backpack not filled with silly bandz.

Actual backpack.  Photo taken while date used restroom.

I know none of you could sleep all weekend long awaiting the conclusion of this nail biter of a scenario. So, what was in the backpack? Get your pillow and binky ready because this is a snoozer. It was his school bag. He's working on his MBA part time and takes a class every Friday night.

In a normal situation, I'd be very pleased to learn that the person I am on a date with is getting his MBA. And I know he isn't lying because he's carrying the school issued embroidered back pack. But in this twisted version of reality where I have come to thrive off of encounters that are so terrible they can be easily transformed into blog fodder, I was left disappointed. On top of the disappointing contents of the bag, the bag itself wasn't even a real back pack. It was a messenger. Lame.

I met CheesePimp at a cozy wine bar at 9:30 on Friday, we shared a delicious bottle of red, followed by a couple of additional glasses of red, engaged in witty conversation, etc. Fortunate for my readers, I left my first date filter back at my apartment so two glasses of wine in I started laying on a nice helping of sass with a side of uncomfortable honesty. It started innocently enough. Sometimes I make fun of guys I date and they giggle and give it back to me and it's a nice little thing we get going. However, there is a fine line between flirting and attacking with this approach; and I may have danced too close.

Me: So what's the deal with you being on Dating Site #1?
CheesePimp: Well, I just felt like [blah, blah, blah no time to meet girls, blah, blah bar scene blah, blah] and so I've been on it for about nine months and…
Me: (Interrupting) What?! You've been on it for 9 months?!
CheesePimp: Um, well, yea..I mean for periods of that I have taken a much more passive approach, but yea…
Me: Wow. After nine months I feel like you should probably just give up.
CheesePimp: Well okay. Wow. I guess so…
Me: (Thinking that if I take this way too far it will all seem like more of a joke) I mean after a year of trying this with no success I feel like you should probably just kill yourself.
CheesePimp: (His face is saying wtf you whore?!) Yea I guess you're right. At least I have a few more months though right?! Haha…
Me: Yea…lucky for me! (awkward laugh)

So after I suggested suicide as a possible option to end his unsuccessful run at online dating, we moved on to more interesting topics like what a great place Washington DC is. I love DC so this couldn't go badly. CheesePimp talked a little bit about how much the city has changed and improved over the past decade. To show contrast he mentioned the state of the city post 9/11, citing the fact that he was a young 24 (my age) at that time. Uncomfortable with such a serious topic, I followed this up with "Yea, 9/11, wow, I remember they cancelled my JV volleyball game that day, very somber time".

That served as a great opener for the age discussion. He went to undergrad at a school in my home state, but we opted to skip the name game since two full cycles of students separate us. Trying desperately to pull us out of this hole, CheesePimp taught me the "age divided by two plus seven" rule. You take the older partners age, divide it by two and add seven. The resulting number is the lowest age that the person should date. This formula put us in the clear, but definitely didn't put the topic to rest.

All joking aside, the date went okay. He was great and I have a bit of a crush on him. I'm not sure he's super interested. I may have pushed him away just enough. Plus I had gross red wine teeth by the end of the night so that may have sealed my fate. One sort of okay date in and I have now officially turned into an obnoxious, terrible, insecure girl type person. I'm the one chatting with girlfriends about whether I should text "Thanks again, had a great time!" or "Had a great time, thanks again. Have a nice weekend" or "Had a great time! We should do it again". In the same moment, considering at what point if I have not heard from him I will write him off completely while also planning our life together. This is absolutely terrible.

This kind of okay date has made me think. What am I going to write about if I like this person and we start to date? I'm pretty sure that won't be the case with this one, but maybe it is a possibility. No one wants to read about a relatively happy couple, just starting out in their relationship. I guess I will just have to (cue Beastie Boys background music) sabotage (translated: unknowingly ef it up then blame a latent resistance to being in a relationship as the cause).

"I'll be the one wearing a backpack"

I felt great about my decision to go on a date with the cheese importer. That is, until he wrote me to confirm the time and let me know he would be the guy wearing the backpack. I'm trying to be open minded, but let's look at the facts. I am meeting this guy at a wine bar at 9:00 PM on a Friday night. He is 32 years old. He is going to be wearing a backpack.

I think this is a good time to pull out the old jump to conclusions mat. Why is CheesePimp (that's not his real user name but I wish it was) going to be wearing a backpack on our date / what is in the effing backpack?

1. He's a workaholic and so the backpack is full of cheese that he peddles on the streets of Chicago. If this is the case, maybe I can have a dramatic "why do you always choose your work over me!" outburst in the middle of the wine bar.
2. He's homeless. The backpack serves as his traveling bedroom. ("In the foster home my hair was my room.")
3. Thirty-two year old, probably lonely, man carrying a backpack - obviously he is a terrorist. Just kidding, he's white. Just kidding again, there was the unabomber that one time and he was white. Just kidding, seriously though I'm not racist.
4. He's a hipster-type and wears his backpack while riding his fixed gear bike through the city. I'd rather it be 1 - 3.
5. The backpack is empty. He will drop it off in a phone booth after he abducts me. You will find the backpack, fill it with unmarked bills and leave it in the men's bathroom at Jamba Juice in order to ensure my safe return. (I don't know if that's funny or if maybe it's just likely enough to be not okay to joke about, oh well)
6. The backpack is full of silly bands and (Oprah voice) YOU'RE ALL GETTING ONE!!!!!!

I can't wait to find out if one of those is right or if it turns out to be something different that I don't even know about yet. Had I known this sooner I would have really embraced this backpack thing and worn one myself. But with only a days notice my mom won't have time to fedex my Claire's mini backpack. It's purple, with a brown suede flap. It looked effin bad ass with my mini watch mood ring circa 1996.

But seriously, why the ef is he going to be wearing a backpack? Please weigh in. (If you say something that reasonably explains the backpack I'm going to be upset.)

Lowering my Mandards

If you surveyed a random group of girls on what their man standards are you'd likely hear a lot of the same thing regardless of whether the response was coming from Carrie Underwood or Deelishis (Winner of Flavor of Love; Season 2 - I would hope you all already know that). But based on the number of obese, unemployed, married people in this world, many are obviously forced to ignore these standards in order to avoid dying alone. So do "standards" really hold any meaning or are they just a nice excuse to be used by fugly people when they are asked why they haven't dated in several years?

While I sat on my sofa yesterday watching an I Didn't Know I was Pregnant marathon I began pouring over some of my recent eSuiter messages and really started to question my own standards. Based on the caliber of my current prospects I started thinking, well maybe that 7' tall man wouldn't be so weird. I mean sure, we'd probably have to take special van cabs everywhere but on the bright side it'd be nice to have someone around who can change a light bulb or paint a house without needing a ladder. And if I made him wear sunglasses a lot, raisinette eyes wouldn't be too unattractive…right?

I quickly returned from this dark place and decided that some of my standards (no giants, human sized eyes only, etc.) should never be questioned. On the other hand, I may have to start being a tad flexible in other areas. I have a strict height requirement. I'm 5'7" (translated: 5'6") so anyone I date needs to be at least 5'11", preferably 6'1" and 6'3" and above will be judged on a case by case basis. In the spirit of not judging people based on their physical appearance, I've decided to loosen my height requirement to 5'10". I've also decided that writing "lol" in a message to me will not result in an automatic disqualification. Look at me growing as a person. Fuck yea personal growth.

Don't get too excited, Mom. Just because I'm lowering my standards doesn't mean I'm going to date the air conditioner repair man you've been trying to set me up with for the past three years. I know he's going to take over the family business someday and I agree that repairing air conditioners is nothing to be ashamed of, but I'm really not looking to get involved in a long distance relationship with someone that drives a Ford Econoline. Dad says you held him captive for an hour and a half last time he came to the house and he's worried he's going to have to find a new AC guy since this one thinks he's being hit on by a 54 year old married woman. Please leave him alone. (But maybe don't tell him I'm totally not interested yet. I might be singing a different tune a year or two from now and don't want to limit myself.)

The moral of today's blog post: filler. Yep, I've been really bad and haven't been responding to my eSuiters so I don't have any dates to report on. Don't worry though, I'm active in conversations with two eSuiters right now. One is an attractive attorney who is "not looking for anything permanent, but would like something fun and exciting" (translated: wants to bone). The other is a less attractive importer / exporter / distributor (his name is not Art Vandallay) of cheese, chocolate and olive oil (he had me at cheese). Please vote for your personal favorite on the sidebar. Whichever one wins will be the one that I go on a date with. (Probably not, but vote anyway)

Oh and IDKIWP - spoiler alert - the lady pooped out a baby in the toilet of a KFC bathroom. In every episode.

Internet Date # 2: Why hasn't this guy blinked for the past 45 minutes?

I agreed to meet one of my eSuiters for a drink on Friday night. As Friday afternoon dragged into evening I began to dread the thought of going on another date. On the plus side, I was in much better shape than I was for date #1, aka DribbleDate2010.

The eSuiter I agreed to meet was someone with whom I had exchanged a few e-mails. Based on his photos he seemed to be tall and slim…or chubby depending on which photo you looked at. He had just adopted a shelter dog so that sounded promising. Basically - 27 year old, male, TDB (Tall, dark, and boring - my "type" according to friends).

I arrived at the agreed upon bar and found my way out to the back where my eSuiter was waiting. Aside from his outfit selection, a polo with an abnormally large, maybe 4" long polo insignia, he wasn't too bad. He appeared to be the skinny picture version of himself - hooray! The moment I sat down a terrible feeling came over me as I realized that aside from his first name and the fact that he owns a dog, I couldn't remember any details about him. No worries, I'm in sales, I can wing it. After, "Hey…great to meet you…how was your week?" I had nothing. Enter awkward silence #1. The thrilling conversation that followed went something like this:

eSuiter: So, you sell plastic for a living, what does the plastic you sell go into?
Answer I should have said: One interesting customer I have manufactures synthetic wine corks.
What I actually said: Um..Crocs shoes?
eSuiter: Oh, that's neat. I hate those.
Me: Yea, Crocs pretty much represent everything that's wrong with the world.
(WHAT?)
Me: (Super excited because I just remembered a detail about this person's life) So you're from Pennsylvania, right!?
eSuiter: Yea I am.
Me: Cool, which part?!
eSuiter: Lancaster
Me: (I know three people from PA and they are all from Lancaster, this has to be the luckiest moment of the day - cue name game!) Oh really!? A couple of friends of mine from college are from Lancaster! Do you know Terra, Trixie, or Sammy Simon?!
eSuiter: Nope.
Me: Oh, okay. (crickets). So Lancaster, Amish country huh.
eSuiter: Yea, lot's of buggies. I wasn't raised Amish though.
Me: Haha, didn't think so. (COMPLETELY JOKING) You were probably one of those crazy mennonites right!?
eSuiter: Yea I was raised Mennonite.
Me: (Silence)
eSuiter: Not, like super conservative mennonite; I was allowed to wear jeans.
Me: Oh jeans, sweet, yea. (CHANGE THE SUBJECT QUICKLY) So where did you go to school?
eSuiter: I went to SchoolIveNeverHeardofandCantRemember.
Me: Oh I think I've heard of that.
eSuiter: Yea, it's a small Mennonite school for Mennonites.
Me: Right, right, okay, yea, definitely.
Awkward Silence #14 - Please note that during all of these silences my eSuiter never shifted his eyes away from mine. I'm not even sure if he blinked. This made me very uncomfortable.
Me: So I love this bar, great patio…do you come here a lot?
eSuiter: No, I've never been here.
Me: Oh, okay…
eSuiter: I didn't know where to tell you to meet me so I was sitting in my office and looked down at my softball league t-shirt and it said this bar's name on it so I told you to meet me here.
Me: Oh, of course, cool. So softball?
eSuiter: Yea I don't play anymore. (The tone in which he said this signaled that I should not ask a follow up. However his rec softball career ended, it was not good and I should not ask so I didn't).

I would say that about covers the highs from this date. The low came when I recounted for him the story of my family's cats and how five have died under our care in my lifetime. By the time I got to the tragedy of Miss Kitty chapter of the story, he was still listening which I knew was a bad sign. When the waitress came by and asked us if we'd like another, I quickly told her no and we got the check. While eSuiter was asking the waitress something, the guy at the table behind me (who had noticeably checked me out as I walked in) leaned back in his chair and loudly whipered "Definitely a first date and it's definitely not going well". This gave me a giggle and I began thinking of how I could pull a switcheroo and be on a date with him instead. Too much work, I concluded. I then told eSuiter that I better get going since I had a thing with a person at a place I had to get to. He stood up to leave with me, revealing his pear shaped figure and that was that. He has since texted and called me twice. I'm doing the thing where I just don't answer or respond. I really think it's best this way. Bring on Bachelor # 3!

Love Letter

Dear eSuiters,

You might be wondering why I haven't responded to your repeated winks and messages. Within the list below, each of you will find one or more relevant answer(s) to that question.

1. You spend two paragraphs on your profile telling me about your virginity. You love Jesus, we get it.

2. In your message to me, you used 'lol' anywhere from 3 to 12 times.

3. You are 7 feet tall and I'm not sure how I feel about dating a giant yet. Although you did lead me to google, "how many 7 ft tall people in the world". So that was cool.

4. You have a large head and eyes the size of raisinettes. (sorry, it's true)

5. Based on the 9 photos you display on your profile, you spent all the shirt money your mom gave you on hair gel.

6. You're 42 years old. If you had been cool enough to get laid in high school, your child would be my age. Plus you look like an old man version of Pauly Shore.

7. You are holding what appear to be different babies in all of your photos and say you have no children now but would love to someday. So then, who are those babies? How are you friends with that many babies? Give the babies back to their real owners.

8. For fun you like to "hold doors for strangers", "lend a hand to someone in need", "be a good role model" and "water ski". Go fuck yourself.

9. Unsolicited, you shared via a personal message to me (among other things that fall into the I don't need to know this category) that you're favorite color is blue-green.

10. Your favorite band is Creed.

Give me a few weeks and increased desperation may lead me to rethink some of these deal breakers, but for now I'm going to stand firm. Good luck with; your internet motorcycle business / keeping your V-card / fucking yourself / stealing babies / owning things that are blue-green / etc.

HAGS,
JBird

First Internet Date - A Major Success!

...if you define success as not throwing up on your date. In order for you to fully appreciate a recap of Monday's lunch date I need to take you back to Saturday.

Poolside day drinking quickly led to night drinking, friend making and I'm pretty sure there was some dancing involved. Skip to Sunday morning. Me, super hung over on the couch, where I slept unable to make it the 8 feet to my bed, covered in pistachios. For those of you that know me well you know morning's like these leave me with what can only be described as Nick Nolte mugshot hair. Smeared mascara. Drunkenly picked out ill fitting pajamas. As I lay in a pile of spilled excedrin migraine tablets and pistachios, I hear the friendly beep of my blackberry signaling receipt of a text. I happily open the text unaware that I am unleashing the first in a series of unstoppable events that will lead to a date so bad the guy I went out with has probably decided to give up on internet dating.

The text came from my gay (allegedly straight) ex-boyfriend neighbor. It read, "Hey, are you home? Do you mind if I stop by?" We spend a significant amount of time together so this came as no surprise and I quickly responded, "Bring chai tea lately and mcnuggets" . Along with a follow up, "10 piece pleeeeeeease". A few moments later there was a knock on my door and I yelled for him to come in. Before I could set in on how effed up it was that he was mcnuggetless, he stopped me and said that we needed to talk. Sensing it was something serious I sat up, picked a pistachio off of my arm and shoveled several excedrin onto the coffee table. I looked at him all decked out in his church clothes and immediately I knew. I said to him, "You have a new girlfriend". He nodded confirmation.

Keep in mind I was probably still a bit drunk at this point.

Initially I went into my crazy super fake voice and spouted off something about how happy I was for him, how kind and considerate it was of him to tell me about her, and that I looked forward to meeting the whore face (I probably just said "her"). From there the conversation went something like this:

EXBF: Why are you being like this?
Me: Being like what? (Still in super fake scary voice)
EXBF: Being so nice and fake.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer I be honest? (Still in super fake, now even scarier voice)
EXBF: Well…I dunno…yea I guess so.
Me: Oh, okay. Well then go fuck yourself.
EXBF: Umm…okay.
Me: This news doesn't bother me in the least. I'm only a tiny bit disappointed that you didn't come over and finally admit you're gay. I mean what the hell could she have that I don't have? (I then pointed to myself, Nick Nolte hair and all). Whatever it's never going to work out anyway because you're still in love with me, obviously. That's awesome though, that's great. Tell me about her.
EXBF: Well she's not a nurse. She's a nutritionist from Nashville.
Me: (Under my breath but not really) A nutritionist? Like an under-qualified nurse slash cafeteria worker? (I know that doesn't even make sense nor is it funny and I really have nothing against nutritionist whores)
Me: (Rolling around mumbling things) Just get the eff out of my apartment.
EXBF: Okay, well…that went well all things considered.
Door slam. End of scene.

So after that happened I had to start drinking again, obviously. Repeat Saturday night but with more drinking, more dancing, and more patriotic funfetti cake. I returned home around 5:00 AM just in time to catch 2 hours of sleep before waking up to begin what would be hours of vomiting along with other super attractive intestinal issues. Next thing I know it's 10:30 and time to get ready for my lunch date at noon. I manage to change out of my clothes from the night before and wash my hair. Things are looking up! My friend feels sorry for me and so he agrees to drive me to the date since I'm pretty sure walking the 6 blocks to the restaurant or taking a cab will lead to more vom. He also let's me know before dropping me off that he will come pick me up if I throw up on my date or crap my pants. Based on my overall appearance he estimated that there was a 10% chance that one of those things would happen. On that note I get out of the car.

As I get out of a car driven by another guy, I see my date getting out of his car. He notices me and seemed to have some confusion about my method of arrival. I decide to never address that and instead extend my clammy hand in introduction. After saying nice to meet you the first thing that comes out of my mouth is "Yea sorry I'm really, um…tired kind of". To which he replies, "Oh, long night huh?" I actually just don't respond to his comment and dive right into my water then ask (what turns out to not be) our waitress for some diet coke, immediately. The next 30 minutes are kind of a blur but I'm pretty sure I successfully portrayed myself as a drunk whore. And guess what? He was effing amazing. Extremely attractive. Extremely successful. Extremely concerned about my overall state of being.

Did I mention that I dribbled? Yea, I didn't really throw up, but at one point water just sort of slowly spilled from my mouth. I kept my talking to a minimum because the more time I had my mouth open, the more the hair on my arms stood up signaling that at any moment I might throw up on him. Eventually he finished his meal, quickly paid for our lunch, mentioned something about needing to meet someone to do something and peaced out. I would have judged him if he'd played it any differently.

All this time I was thinking this blog would be about the weird shit these internet dating guys do and say when in reality they are the normal ones? I feel like I've entered an alternate universe.

On the bright side, I didn't throw up on him! Which means I can still go to that restaurant! Yay!!

Date #2 here I come!

Tiddlywinks

In college I used to get drunk and play a game I called "Getting on my friend's facebook accounts and poking people they aren't really friends with"; Drunky Pokes for short. Remember that terrible girl in college who was a year younger than you, hung out with the same fraternity you did, and would often yell things in unison with her friends like "Yea bitches!!!". She got poked a lot during Drunky Pokes. So did the random dude you did a group project with in econ, random dude you made out with 3 years ago, and maybe your cousin. Drunky Pokes was the best and always led to a lot of laughter, confusion and password changing.

Upon my return for the bars last night Drunky Pokes was reborn in an adaptation I'll call: "Getting on my Dating Site # 1 account and winking at random men I have no interest in"; Tiddlywinks for short. The drunk me thought this game was hilarious. The sober me thinks this game is dangerous and sad. My wink count went from 0 yesterday to 17 today. All of the men who received tiddlywinks were among those that have already winked at me. Quick cross section of tiddlywink recipients:

Gregory - 22; works in IT; divorced; total ginge; talks about atheism a lot.
CaucasianShrek - 37; works in IT; 6' 7"; mentioned he owns a boat 7 times in his profile.
SPORTSYAAAA - See earlier post.
LargeBlackMan - 33; divorced; large black man; hobbies include Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Muay Thai Kickboxing, killing people, and cooking*.
Dr. Love - 35; Indian Doctor; 6' 6"; describes his life as being "basically the storyline for Harry Potter"

*I made up one of those hobbies. Can you tell which one?

Jabba the Whutt?

Ever heard of Wookieepedia? Neither had I until I decided to abandon dreams of being with the one I love aka my gay (allegedly straight) ex-boyfriend neighbor and try my hand at internet dating. I learned about Wookieepedia because I google search many of my eSuiter's usernames to figure out what they are supposed to mean. A significant portion of my searches lead me to Wookieepedia, the Star Wars Wiki Site. Want a little insight into the workings of eSuiter SithLord4Life - Wookieepedia that shit. Not sure what he means by "looking for his Lumiya" - I wookieepedia'd the eff out of that. A great tool for anyone who's hit rock bottom and likes to be in the know.

My Safari tabs at this moment are:
1. my own blog
2. Dating site #1
3. Wookieepedia's page on Darth Zannah so that I can decode a reference made by the potential future Mr. JBird
4. A fwd email from my mom telling the story of a monkey and dog that became bffl's

Anyone else a little concerned?

Wait, do I have to go on actual dates with these people?

One of my many eSuiters has requested we meet in person. "Maybe we could check out Taste" he wrote in a message commenting that writing emails back and forth has gotten old.

Eff. I've really enjoyed sitting on the sidelines judging these guys on their feeble email pick up lines, dermatological conditions, and disregard for grammar. I'm thinking maybe I could just keep doing that for a while, right? I mean, uh, eh, nooo (this is where throw a subdued hissy and emotionally shut down because I don't want to do something).

After listening to many voice concern over my reluctance to go out in public with these men, I have decided to take the plunge. So I'm going on a date with SPORTSYAAAA.

No I'm not actually. I'm agreeing to meet up with one of the less fun to make fun of "normals". His response to "Favorite Things" was "Stuff White People Like". So he's okay I guess. On the downside (depending on how you look at it), the more I look at his pictures, the more I think his soft bone structure could be that of a lady. And I'm very concerned about his comment that "life is measured in happiness, not wealth" because that might mean he's poor which would be gross. Oh well. Here we go.