Let’s be clear. I’m shallow. I like good-looking people. I only flirt with good-looking people. I judge the book by its cover. If your flesh cover doesn’t appeal to me, there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that I’ll be interested. (I’ll give you time to pass judgment on me and say, “Oh my God. How can she be so superficial?” Are you done yet? Ok. I’ll continue.) In the hormone-fueled world of the internet, a profile photo allows me to make a snap judgement. With that in mind, may I make a suggestion? If you’re attempting to attract a female, you might not want to scare the hell out of her.
This man is looking for that special someone with whom to share his obsession with the Manson Family. Nothing says “romance” more than a visit to the Spahn Ranch. He didn’t mean to kill his previous girlfriends. After chloroforming those two teenagers, he forgot to make sure their airways were unobstructed. No worries. He has learned his lesson and no longer gags girls with their own underwear.
What girl wouldn’t want to bring a doctor home to meet her parents? Sure… He looks like he makes his own surgical instruments. But, that just means he’s thrifty.
-“Honey, do you know where I put the mellon baller?”
-“Don’t worry, Mom. My boyfriend took it. He’s performing cataract surgery today.”
What girl could resist the charms of this dashing fellow? Nothing says “sexy” more than a man with a lab coat, a syringe and a variety of unknown bodily fluids. On the upside, the lucky chica who wins this guy will always vacation in exotic countries that don’t check to confirm his medical credentials. Where else can he find new “volunteers” for his experiments?
Your genius strikes again! I am a bit guilty myself of…impersonal (and therefore non-flattering) pictures at times, but I do tend to avoid the hideous (as others, as you so aptly displayed, have not taken to heart). If there were a guide to the internet, I would recommend putting this in it.
The medical one was a little funny. Seems like a lame attempt to say, “I am a doctor” without sounding pretentious. Although his expression and the lab setting are so disturbing it reminded me of Irons in “Dead Ringers.”
Hmmm. How about a chick in a nighty teasing a dog with food?
This is the reason why most intelligent single men would rather stay single. Too often the intelligent women are too high on their on discovered prowess of their mind and intellect that they would rather insult a good guy and look for their Edward.
This is what a good guy wrote to someone who thought like you. With the modern definition of insanity in mind and no hope to hold, I’ll reach out again and expect the same.
I don’t like christmas, nor family.
What is the point of happiness I cannot grasp?
I’m Empathy that has suffered a vasectomy,
Here I’m left desperate but not begging
I’m not the worst off but I’m “So lonely I could cry.”
I won’t show my desperation, why publish it?
Smile, suffer on the inside. Being date raped
by a culture I don’t adhere to, and made to
suffer through ideas I don’t subscribe to.
Here I am, time suffers duality. The nights never
end but the years pass by too quickly. All those
who can hear my voice are too far to reach even though
they’re within arms reach. I reach, and they pull away,
and I’m made desperate.
Like the washer on an infinite cycle, it happens as often
as I care to wash my clothes. Get dressed, walk. Drive,
get out say hello retreat to the inside. I stare at the stars
because maybe someone will think “there is a dreamer,
we must converse.” It is more like “Ah, that guy is drunk.”
“People let me tell you about my best friend.”
I feel like a novelty on a christmas tree, Everyone remembers that
ornament, but no one cares to give it much
more thought than that. I try to share my heart, try
to reach out, try to make them happy, but it’s empty, and my acting has become worse with their wear, a shoe worn too often.
My soul is worn down, and everyone is too busy moving.
Stop! Talk to me. Tell me about you. Lets have a coffee,
Let us break your routine, so that we can properly empathize.
No you can’t bring a friend! Because three is a party,
and I don’t feel like celebrating.
I endure, I could sit out in 32 degrees forever…
Til I got hungry. Then I will make coffee, dance to no music,
with no motion. I will be a conduit surging with electricity,
coming from nowhere, hitting a brick wall and returning to nowhere.
How do you dance with no music? I don’t know but I cry
inside afterwards.
I take my clay and play elsewhere. Stop touching, Stop singing,
leave me alone unless you want to start talking. Life is hard
I get that. We’re in a river, I get that too. “Why not swim this way, why not this stroke, this form, this way damnit this way!” Because I drank too much water and I’m afraid I’m sinking.
-Charles
Life has changed, but the sentiments remain the same. I figured I’d pass this on and maybe help you understand a little of what goes on in the mind of an average looking tall intelligent fat guy, whose articles blogs like your seem to target.
Make fun of us, guys like me. In the end I’m not looking for a beautiful woman, only one who can keep up with me intellectually, so we can live like children. Our eyes wide to the possible experiences of the world.
Fare you well.