Alright, Plenty of Fish. It’s time we had a talk. No, this isn’t about the guy who took me out and tried to sell me a diet plan. No, it’s not about the man who asked if the reason I hadn’t had any real luck was because I was Catholic… and then called me an uptight bitch when I didn’t respond. It’s not even about Abdul542 and his “Ooh very awesome to me I love to be your friend” message.* It’s about your offensive fucking ads… you bag of dicks.
*Copy and paste. Actually.
I am being whored out to whom, now? The cop who’s about to use his furry handcuffs to arrest me for “drinking while sexy” or the one who is working diligently on his 1993 MS-DOS 6.2 with a smile on his face?
Well, now, obviously the gaping wound between my legs means I’m looking for someone with money. Fortunately, these guys don’t mind claiming that online… perhaps because they’re only 22? That’s why they haven’t had time to date (or put on clothes), because they work so much! Super believable. I suppose this isn’t a surprising pitch in a post-Christian Grey world where I am to assume the man in a pooka shell neckalce is a “megabajillionaire” without asking questions… or he’ll punch me in the neck… and it will be haaaawt.
My profile lists me as average, so I can only assume this advertisement was directed at me, because I’m dating online… of course I’m fat and insecure about it. That, however, does not mean I don’t deserve a well-hung billionaire just as much as the next gal. Fortunately for all chubby ladies, there’s an apparent shortage of pushin’ cushion here in the Midwest, where we’re known for vegetarianism and marathons!
Well, we’ve already addressed the weight insecurity, so really, your question about artificial sweetener is redundant at best. Even if that works, though, it’s likely time has managed to kick my ass, because I’m desperate enough to find a partner… online!!!!!! Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if he saw me for the first time and I looked like one of The Golden Girls? But let’s get serious people. This is a free dating site. Like I can afford Botox? Fortunately there’s a cream that will stop “women from going under the knife” to battle their insecurities! You know what else might do that? Botox. It’s a fucking injection.
For starters, the headline “Wanted” kind of makes everything look like an ad for a drug trial that may give me either the power to start fires with my mind or an exotic venereal disease. Furthermore, what about this random guy signifies his religious beliefs? Am I to assume the back of his shirt reads “I’m Catholic and I Know It”? He is, however, on a beach, so he must be rich, since you know… those cost a lot?
In conclusion, Plenty of Fish, I must admit that your ads are not going to deter me from using your site, because I’m still too cheap to pay for any other. No, no. The fact remains that what might actually deter me is the last “catch” who initiated contact:
“It makes me laugh when people want a picture on your profile but yet they dont have one themselves lol. People on this this are shallow. And i know i look good cause i am in body building. Kgcbhgcbhfcngc fhjgc ghjh ghjh ghhbfc ghjjh vhjjh”
… but that’s a different rant.
I’m more insulted by the use of Comic Sans on that advert, but then I just really hate Comic Sans.
Also, have you tried Ok Cupid?
I hated the font too! Haha. I have an account that I hid after a day, because I don’t have time right now. In a few months I plan to give it a go.
“gaping wound between my legs” killed me. 🙂 Great post, I guess the upside to crappy advertisements and strange dating profiles is that it gives you material for your blog? Haha, thanks for an enjoyable read. -K
Haha. Coincidentally, that happens to be my stance on bad dates as well.
This is great. My best friend from high school does an “eharmonality” of the day on Facebook. I keep telling her that she she start a blog because it is hilarious. You have to keep a sense of humor about it because there are some pathetic men out there.
Haha. Yes. You always have to keep in mind that your worst date will be your best blog entry.