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Online Dating 101
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11/30/2004
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Lesson one, part one- Creating your profile.
Disclaimer: Since I have never attempted to date a guy on line, most of the information herein will be from a dude's view of online dating. Forgive me for not being willing to go gay for the sake of this column. They don't pay me enough...yet.
The most common misconception about online dating is that everyone on the web is a drooling pervert and/or cannibalistic serial killer. Some of the most stable people I have ever met were found on the internet. The fact is, there are far more people who aren't crazy than are crazy in the world, and meeting them in person at a bar as opposed to a website does not guarantee that they don't have a taste for human flesh.
The other misconception is not a misconception at all. While television might add 20 pounds, an internet dating profile definitely takes off about 40. If a girl says she has a "few extra pounds", keep in mind that a few can mean 50 or 200. Cool if that's what you are in to, but if you aren't, it is still a fact. Just try not to look surprised when she lumbers up to you in a crowded restaurant. For what it's worth, the big girls are always more fun to talk to. Just don't say anything like "you seem too cool to be skinny, I bet you're huge" in your e-mail exchange. Never works.
Your name
You'll first have to decide on a screen name. Please don't work your physical attributes into your handle. Examples of this would be "sexyblueyes54193478", "longleggedninja873", or "southerngalwitheyestoofarapart69". Just use a word or a name. If you have to add numbers to it, it is because other people have already used that name.
Your Picture
Post a damn picture, for God's sake. And make it a recent one. Not the freak picture that you just happen to look good in, either. Those are easy to spot. If you say you are 30 years old and post a picture of yourself wearing a cheerleading outfit, you are setting yourself up for failure. If you start up correspondence with a person who won't post a picture, you can only blame yourself when it doesn't pan out. Guys love to tell ourselves that maybe she didn't post a picture because she is so beautiful that she was afraid she would be deluged with horny males who are only judging her on the surface. That happens exactly 0% of the time. If a girl were that smokingly hot, she:
a. Wouldn't need to find a date on the internet
b. Would probably want to show off her hottitude in order to sustain the fragile ego that comes with being a hot chick, and
c. Wouldn't have much to offer beyond outer beauty, so getting to know her as a person would be an exercise in boredom. If you find an exception to this rule, marry her.
Don't post a picture taken at Glamour Shots. You can't possibly need an explanation for that. Below are a few examples of pictures taken from online dating ads, ranging from horrible to horribly horrible. Where necessary, images have been digitifically altered so as to make it impossible to recognize the individual, so don't even try.
First, the grainy crappy picture that was taken with a $19 webcam. You see a lot of these, and the face is usually at least halfway out of the picture but it doesn't matter because these pictures never look like humans unless you have some weird kind of skin pixellation disorder or just covered your face in fruity pebbles. In which case I am sorry.
You run across these once in a while as well. Much like the first few rounds of American Idol when you ask yourself "Didn't anyone ever tell this person they weren't a good singer?", you are looking at someone who thinks they are something they are not. If she had been standing up, the picture would be fine. But no, she had to show us her pendulous mammaries in an effort to find mister right.
Glamour shots. Come on. At least I didn't have to alter her appearance to protect her identity. She did it herself with that cute, flirty little hat. Why do glamour shots always have them holding their collar? Because they did a study. A study that showed the glamourousness going up by 14% when the hands were close to the face. Add a soft-focus filter to that and you get another 9%. Yes, 23% more glamourosity.
Okay, you're hot. Maybe you're a model. WE GET IT. Don't post your portfolio images on line. It scares the mortals away.
Sassy, anyone? Seriously with the Glamour Shots: just stop it. All we know about you is how sultry a bunch of part time mall-employed makeup artists can make you look with the right sequined jacket.
Next week's lesson- The self-description. Stay tuned.
 Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 2:41 PM |
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Resolved: I will not drink pee in the coming year.
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11/23/2004
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I drink one gallon of water every day. Some people think it helps you lose weight because it cleans your guts out or something. Wrong. What really happens is that you have to pee approximately every ten minutes, and by noon you have walked an extra nine miles to and from the bathroom. On the way to the bathroom, I filled up my water bottle and threw a little crystal light lemonade powder in for flavor and a dose of that delicious carcinogen sweetener they use. On the way out of the bathroom I got some very odd stares from some people in the hallway. Figuring I had left my pants unzipped, I checked my fly. That was when I realized that I had just left the bathroom with a bottle of yellow liquid in my right hand.
Without thinking, I took a swig just to prove that it was in fact delicious lemonade and not reclaimed urine. One of the guys actually flinched. I don't think they bought it.
On my 78th trip to the bathroom, I was standing at the urinal thinking "some people just don't care who hears them blowing ass after lunch." You know those guys that will come in and say hi as they are walking past you, shut the door to the stall, and proceed to evacuate their bowels like it's an Olympic sport. Then they flush six times and come out like nothing happened and want to pick up a conversation with you. I don't want to talk to you, mister poobutt. Not until the memory of those sounds and smells has faded.
Thanksgiving being just around the bend, I have decided to start working on my new year's resolutions. Last year I resolved to gain five pounds and not wear a dress. I'm probably the only person you know who has been successful with his resolutions. For 2005, I'm thinking my resolution will be to pay my taxes since I'm pretty used to it. Once that's done, I resolve not to wear any holiday sweaters or get pregnant.
I went drill shopping at the Home Depot this weekend. My Ryobi 14v cordless finally gave up after several years of faithful service. I hardly cried at all. I wanted something in the 24v range just in case I needed to dislocate a shoulder while drilling. For just over $200, I found a pretty good one made by Rigid, but then I made a wonderful discovery. 24 volts is pretty cool, but also pretty expensive. An electrical outlet in America provides 110 volts and however many amps you need (within reason). How much does a corded drill cost?
About $50.
So for $50, I can have 110 volts of bone-jarring power at my disposal. Sold. I also bought a masonry bit, just in case I had to drill a hole in concrete. Can't do that with a cordless drill.
This drill has a certain thoroughbred power to it. I plugged it in and revved it up. It torque rolled about 45 degrees against my grip and sounded like a shop vac, scaring the cat back into hiding. I couldn't contain my gleeful laughter. Love it. There are a couple of new holes in the brick in my house, and I'll figure out something to hang there eventually. Give me a yell if you need holes where none are present.
Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 4:19 AM |
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He said "Uvula".
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11/16/2004
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The light bulb went out in my bedroom, and I know the light bulb is out because there is a conspicuous absence of room-filling light when I flip the switch. My room doesn't get much natural light at night, and I swear I have tried the light switch at least eight hundred times- each time thinking, "The filament hasn't regenerated in the past fifteen seconds, you moron. Go buy a bulb."
Like I expect Barry the light bulb changing caribou to come change it while I'm not looking.
In the middle of the night I got up to do something (yes, I tried the lightswitch AGAIN) and then figured that since it's my house and I'm the only one who lives there, chances are no one moved anything while I was asleep. So I strolled into the darkness toward the kitchen like I knew where I was going. My theory was flawed. It turns out that someone moved one of the brick pillars in the living room exactly the width of one pinky toe. My toe hit that pillar so hard that some of the mortar came out from between the bricks on the other side.
The pinky toe has got to be some kind of evolutionary vestige. You can't even move it. Did it used to have a role in reproduction when we were fish or something? Every nerve ending in your body terminates there, and it just hangs off the side of your foot trying to tear itself off on shit.
I no longer needed to light the room because the sparks and fiery brain matter spraying from my eyes was illuminating the place nicely. I also said very loudly "GAHJAMMIT, MY FACKING TOE" so my neighbors could all share in the experience. This was one of those things that hurt so bad that I was afraid to look at it. I knew for a fact that my foot had split lengthwise between my pinky toe and whatever the next toe is called, and that flap of foot and leg bone was hanging off just below my knee, attached only by a strip of skin and some sinew.
It turns out I just have a very active imagination and a low tolerance for pain. (See: pansy)It was bleeding and there were some parts missing, but it was attached.
To better illustrate where stubbed toes fit in the grand scheme, I hereby debut the Intergalactic Scale of Awesomeness. It is very simple. At one end, the antithesis of awesome is represented by former Creed frontman Scott Stapp. I would have used Scott Stapp's vagina, but this is a family publication (and I couldn't find a picture of it). At the other end is the pinnacle of all things awesome, Spaceship One*. In the middle, a goldfish.
The scale above illustrates that stubbing a toe sucks more than a Pontiac Aztek (the trendily spelled name alone smacks of sucklitude on a quantum level), but not quite as much as a klan member. Things like Usama, ninjas, boobs, beer, and jet fighters are placed for reference.
I woke up the next morning and noticed that my uvula was gigantic (unrelated to the stubbing of the toe as far as I know). During the night it had swollen to two times its normal size. I think the uvula's purpose is to hang there in the back of your mouth, so some stimulus caused it to need to hang there twice as much.
A glance in the mirror told me that my hair was officially in the awkward stage of growing out. I no longer own a comb or hairbrush since I have not had hair for two years, so I got into the shower and hoped it would look better after a good scrubbin'.
It didn't, unless you think having a dead marmot on your head is better than something.
Still limping a bit from the previous night's toestubbery, I decided to make a sandwich in case I got hungry while I was at work. I dropped a piece of lettuce on the floor, stepped on it, and made a monumental scientific discovery.
Lettuce on concrete creates a zero-friction surface. I didn't fall down, but one of my feet went straight out in front of me and extended my leg beyond design specs, causing me to flail and curse. In a clumsy effort to regain my balance I knocked over two end tables and a stereo speaker and then hit my knee on the recliner. The mark the lettuce left on the floor looked like something you'd see in the Jolly Green Giant's underwear. Try getting that image out of your head.
This is the point where I should have called in sick to work.
Of course then I'd need a doctors note, and I dreaded what could go wrong there:
"I don't know doc, just make something up. I need a note. Check out my uvula. You could open a welcome center on it."
"Well, let's see...oh...ohhh...mmm hmmm...can you wait here a second?"
"I guess so."
"Well, Mr. Scott, it looks like you have uvular cancer, and your cancer has rabies. In three days it will be so big you'll have to haul it around on a trailer where it will sit and try to attack you. It won't be a problem for long, because you'll be dead in a week. Why did you get out of bed today?"
Just asking myself the same question.
*If another Spaceship One is built with missiles and/or made entirely out of nipples, the original Spaceship One will be replaced.
I'm doing an improv comedy show that's right, beeches. Dad's Garage Theater, Monday night, November 22 at 7 pm you can come see how unfunny I am in person. Click the link below for information and directions to Dad's Garage Theater.
Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 6:36 AM |
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Bacheloradditus Domesticus
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11/9/2004
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The single heterosexual male adult has ways of doing things that are geared toward reducing wasted movement. Not always the most aesthetically pleasing solutions, but if we can cut out a step in something or avoid maintaining something that doesn't really need to be there by getting rid of it, we will. What follows is a deconstruction of some of our behavior patterns to help the population at large understand the mysterious ways of Bacheloradditus Domesticus.
Laundry- We hate doing laundry, and things like separating colors from whites, using fabric softener sheets, untangling socks, and so on are just extra steps in an already too arduous process. Before I had a washer/dryer, I would pay 78 cents a pound to have someone else do my laundry because the Laundromat is the single most depressing place on earth. Before that, I had a girlfriend who liked doing laundry. That was the first of many signs of her insanity.
If you can do your own laundry at home, why do you need a clothes hamper? When clothes are dirty, throw them in the empty washer until it is full, at which time you add soap and turn it on. The hamper is a middleman, and therefore must be eliminated. When the clothes are finished, boom- you have a dryer/dresser. Of course the clothes are clean; if they were dirty, they'd be in the washer.
Ironing- There are myriad products on the market that claim to remove wrinkles from clothes by spraying the clothing and hanging it up (one of those steps can be removed). There is also an iron in my closet and I think I have an ironing board, but seriously. Who is going to do all of that when you can use my patented de-wrinklification method? Hold up your slacks and spray them with a mist of water from a spray bottle or the spray nozzle on your sink. Just enough to dampen them. Then hang them over your towel rack while you take a shower. The heat and moisture will cause your pants to be flat and sexy. No, there won't be a neat crease down the leg or any of that. If that bothers you, unzip the front of your newly ironed trousers and make sure you have the equipment that makes you male.
Bathroom stuff- Toilet paper may or may not be on a cute little holder, but it will always be within reach. Bathmats are advised against because they will accumulate so much filth that you will probably just throw them away after a few weeks. I advise taking off your shirt and laying it on the floor so you'll have a nice soft temporary mat when you step out of the shower. Once you are dressed, take the dirty shirt and throw it in the washing machine.
Cheap clothes- Don't kid yourself. If you spill jelly on your favorite shirt, you aren't going to rush out and buy some fancy stain remover. Even if you do, you'll screw it up and it'll never come out. This is why we shop at target. Throw away your six-dollar shirt and get another one the next time you are out. It's beautiful. Right now I am wearing a pair of corduroy pants that I bought three years ago for $12.
Cooking- Try to avoid it, as it gets food everywhere, and most of this food will start to smell bad and attract bugs if you don't clean it up immediately (and you won't). If you have regular plates, cool. But buy paper plates for daily use. That way you can still appear to have some class if you need to actually serve food on real plates like a fancypants.
Excess Crap- Things like bathmats, toilet seat covers, shower curtain liners, dust ruffles and window treatments fall somewhere between tampons and quiche on the list of things we can't live without. I have white curtains on my front windows (left by the previous owner, needless to say). One day I came home and found that my cat had projectile vomited on one of them. I killed the cat and wrapped her in the curtain for disposal so she'd never forget why she was dead. I knew window treatments had a purpose.
In general, if something keeps getting left out on the counter instead of being put away, that is because the item's home is too far away from where it is usually used. If I kept my trashcan liners (which may seem like an unnecessary thing, but are quite necessary) in the living room and my trashcan was in the kitchen, one of two things would happen:
1. I'd never use trash bags
2. The box of bags would end up next to the trashcan.
It's all about efficiency. Any additional suggestions are welcome.
Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 4:33 PM |
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Halloween Costume Review
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11/2/2004
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I'm pretty sure that Halloween has changed since I was a kid. We used to dress up as ghosts and witches and go get beaten up by older kids while trying to collect poisonous candy from strangers. I think the kids who dress up as ghosts and witches today get suspended from school for being pagan or looking too much like a Klan member. Case in point- a high school girl in Georgia last month was electrocuted by her principle for smelling like cigarette smoke. The "zero tolerance" policy in Georgia's public schools also came with a "zero common sense" clause. Now you can be suspended for having parents who smoke or have ever mentioned the name of anything that contains gunpowder. I digress. In the guidelines for school age Halloween costumes, there is no rule against being an idiot, and no one can do anything about it because the students will spend nine years in prison for uttering the word "beating". This has bred a generation of morons who think Blue Collar Comedy is funny and dress up as a black eyed pea thinking they are the first person ever to be so creative. "Hey, look at me! I dressed up as a head on a table!"
I have sour news for you, Timmy. I did that when I was in second grade. That was 24 years ago and it was already a dumb idea. Plus, that was back when the mean kids could corner you and throw stuff at you. You can't run very fast wearing a table. Never fear, kids- Soon you will be in college where you can dress as a used tampon and everyone will love you because they have been starved of humor for most of their lives. I went on the trusty old Internet and collected images of some bad costumes so you wouldn't have to go find them yourselves. I also described them so you wouldn't have to think, either.  Hoppy the Beatin' Needin' Frog By all outward appearances, this is a desperate attempt to get one's ass kicked. If you wear this costume, please do not ever strike this pose. This was the first image I found, and it made me think, "Who the hell changed Halloween from scary to stupid?" After some consideration and twelve seconds in photoshop I did find a way to make it creepy as hell:  I bet that's what frogs think the grim reaper looks like. Lameness- 7 Options for improvement- 1.Paint face black and carry a scythe with frog guts/souls on it. 2. Find someone dressed as miss piggy and make muppet porn.  Shaymus O'Cavey The radical Irish Neanderthal who smites his enemies with what appears to be a giant turd.
The biggest problem here is that you'll get kicked out of school for wearing faux fur and carrying a weapon. Especially if you live in Britain, where they are trying to outlaw faux hunting. Lameness- 4 Options for improvement- 1. Glue corn and peanuts to the turd and get drunk enough to fight. 2. Use a real turd.  The Caterpillar that no one loved. This looks more like a movie prop than a costume. Assuming you could talk three of your friends into not leaving your side for an entire day, at least you'd be able to share the shame of looking stupid. You will also get the joy of being unable to run from predators or sneak out a fart. Heat rises, and the only exit is through the neck holes. I think about these things. Lameness- 9 Options for improvement- I'd say choreograph some dance moves so you'll at least have a shtick, but nothing will change the fact that you are wearing a caterpillar suit.  Larvae/Grub/Human Infant (This image was posted in this orientation, which I found amusing, so I left it)I'm not sure if my parents ever dressed me up as a starfish or a tootsie roll before I was old enough to protest, so I'll resent them for it just in case. There are hundreds of adorable costumes like these for infants and they are all too consumed with being cute to fully exploit the child. Where is the imagination here? Sure, attaching an umbilical cord and carting your child around in a jar labeled "abortion" would be to cross every line of taste that is left to cross after my writing that, but you could dress him/her up as an ultrasound or chew toy or something. Overall, the cute infant costumes fall flat like the infants within them. Lameness-5 Options for improvement- If I had this costume and a child that would fit in it, I'd paint them both the color of a dead worm and build a large tequila bottle to house them. That's the sort of thinking that separates the men from the boys.  The Tree from Poltergeist's Unscary Younger Brother
I think the movie Poltergeist was the only time in my life I have been scared by a tree. From the looks of this costume, that's not going to change any time soon. It's probably one of those "make it in an evening" costumes that claim to be simple. Then after 14 trips to the craft shop and $800 worth of dried flowers and fake leaves, you have a kid whose only hope is to blend into the background to avoid being seen by others. Seriously. Who dresses as a tree?Lameness-8 Options for improvement- Something involving a chainsaw or a hippie chained to your trunk might be cool. I'd also replace that butterfly with live ants.  Unimaginative Ripoff This is what Spongebob would look like if he was even more flamboyant and had a human head growing out of his face. This could be attributed to underwater nuclear testing or oil spills, and if you are going that route, add some tumors or something. This one pretty much sucks on wheels no matter what you do to it. Lameness- 9 (originally a 7, bumped up because adults should know better) Options for improvement- Stay home with your cats.  Garbageface the Clown Hey parents, nothing says "I love you but was too drunk to remember to pick up a shitty Halloween costume at the gas station" better than a child sent to school with household waste strapped to his face and a dirty mitten on his head. If you are considering this, forget it. Your child will unceremoniously toss it in the first dumpster he passes no matter how much Drano you used to make the nose red. Lameness- 11 (bonus for making child want to kill parents) Options for improvement- If you think using trash as a Halloween costume is a good idea, I'm not sure what direction this improvement would take us. I guess you could make him wear a bag of vomit around his neck or something.  Study in Animal Abuse It's bad enough that this dog was born as a smaller, less effective version of a much more badass dog, so why dress him up like a pumpkin and pose him in front of a flower bed? It is already clear that God hates him. Lameness- 6 (small dogs have an inherent lameness that effects their score) Options for improvement- Ask yourself if you'd like to be dressed that way. Even if you do, your dog would probably rather be dressed as a robot or something.  Dragsterhund Finally, a costume that kicks some ass. Is it going to be a Top Fuel car or a rickshaw for dolls? Maybe "Veterans of Foreign Wars Wienerdog". In any case, I'd paint flames on it. You can see it written on the dog's face that he's glad he's not a pumpkin. He has the best costume, and doesn't care who knows it.
Lameness- 1 (only because it obviously isn't finished) Options for improvement- Sky's the limit, but I'd go the top fuel route and slap some sponsor stickers on the dog, build a dummy motor with straight pipes that shoot real fire, maybe fatten up those tires a bit for heat dispersion, get a nice set of skydiving goggles to protect his eyes at high speed, and call it the best Halloween ever.
Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 4:34 PM |
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