I think I may abandon ship on the online dating scene. I do not understand the rules or the code evidently. If you are old and fat, you don’t really have a lot of leverage to heckle me for “more revealing pics.” I mean, really, if you look at all like Columbo, Mr. Belvedere or Boss Hogg, then go ahead and assume I am up to your standards appearance-wise. No need to hire Matlock or Magnum to investigate! Can anyone explain this phenomenon?! The more 80’s Tv-ish a man looks, then the more picky he is about what I look like. It’s just too much irony for this girl.
Mr. Belvedere was my date this weekend. I understand this is a blog, but, I love you all too much to share the nasty details. Let me just say that he reached the trifecta of Ewwww: butt/back boils, a Colonel Dixie ‘stache and blood leakage from the irritable bowel syndrome. In retrospect, maybe I don’t love y’all too much, because I felt I shouldn’t be left alone in this mental hell. The solution: 3 episodes of Joyce Meyer, 1 Joel Osteen video and live feed from the Vatican Vespers. HEALED! Free at last thank God almighty…. Ok you get my point.
Everyone has a limit and I have reached mine. No. More. Oldies.
I can’t do it! I can’t help the man I am with cross the street because he needs knee replacement, or stay in his “good” ear when I talk. Let’s not even mention the other areas that may…well…FALL short. I think I will resign myself to a future with an unknown ending. What I do know is that my Senior Citizen community service project is done. I am going to get my ass on the elliptical so that I can get in the fight more for the beach body hotties. I can smell the salt water and I can hear the Miami Vice theme playing….