On the way to cybersex

This my first attempt at Internet dating. Here’s who I chose. What do you think?

Do you love needy, emotional cripples who suffer perpetual mood swings? Do you like girls who demand constant attention and assurance from you and when you give it, push you away and complain that you are smothering them; then, when you leave them alone for ten minutes, they scream that you don’t love them anymore and are cheating on them with someone else as they raid your cell phone for the whore of Babylon’s phone number or plunge their heads madly into your laundry basket in search of another woman’s perfume? Perhaps you would like a girl with advanced degrees from pretentious universities who probably couldn’t function in a job at a taco stand for very long because she finds all jobs painfully boring and a waste of her time. Probably the girl of your dreams views offices as microcosms of the world; that is, insane asylums with bars and no escape. Death or insanity are your true love’s only options as she operates the copy machine and wonders why doing this 8 hours a day is considered healthy and normal. The best part is every day when she comes home and tells you how much she hates her job. You love this. In fact, you live for it. The monotonous, epic tirade about how she is a slave to money and bills and derives no satisfaction whatsoever from a single minute of her repetitive, mundane existence is the highlight of your day. Most days, it is all she can do to keep from plunging a letter-opener into her chest as she date-stamps the mail over and over and over again. The very thought of this makes you want to take her in your arms, tell her everything will be fine, kiss the tears off her beefy, apoplectic face, and throw her down on the floor and have wild sex. The best part is how calm and stabilized she becomes after sex. Your power over this girl’s emotions is like crack.

What I am looking for: a somewhat bookish, intellectual and/or artistic, sensitive, patient fellow between the ages of 33 and 40 who likes to nurture little wounded forest animals back to health; a guy who can manage to walk the fine line of rescuer (without being too stifling) and slightly sadistic tormentor who won’t put up with shenanigans or nonsense of any kind (yes, the ‘daddy’ issues you have at your disposal are infinite). No jealous types or controlling freakshows please. You are very calm and self-assured. No major self-esteem issues to speak of.

What you’re looking for. A tall, thin, eccentric, often reserved, sometimes not (remember, mood swings), creative, impulsive, sometimes socially inept individual who isn’t very mentally stable. You love temper tantrums intermingled with sobbing spells, followed by a few weeks of catatonia. You view the catatonia as a vacation. You can catch up on reading, pursue your own interests, or just rest up for the next raging storm. You are probably an enabler who views his girlfriend as a very complicated and challenging project. It’s all good.

Please include a pic or I am afraid I won’t be responding. This is not so much to judge your looks. I am not that shallow (well, ok, maybe a little).

4 thoughts on “On the way to cybersex”

  1. Whoa.

    At least she’s honest. At first I thought she was going with the “Well, you’re looking in the wrong place then!” angle. Turns out she actually is describing herself.

    If anything, it will be a fun experiment.

    You should send her this picture:

    Foosball

  2. Holy crap. Stay away from this girl. But definitely use that picture for something.

  3. Wow, at first I couldn’t figure this out. I thout you was riting it tho that didnt make cents and wow, what a vocabulary you have developed. but no now i understand that you are stil youre same dum self and that someone else is riting this. if you rite back make sure to dum-down your leter and yes i think this is a wonderful pitcher of the twos of yous.

  4. Dave,
    I am disappointed that you have limited your age requirements to 40. I know a 57 year old woman who could fulfill your needs.
    Love,
    Marne

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