Corn rows

You have absolutely got to be kidding me.  There are no words.  Wait, of course there are.

No wonder the teddy bear is lost.  I'm quite confident he bugged out...as did the six bears before him.  Smart little guys.  The lack of commas and improper capitalization were probably the last straws.

A "bit unusual" is a bit of an understatement.  If I were to dominate you, it would be to scrub my bathtub and dust my knickknacks.  That's the shit I want to see done, not wasting food so you can get your rocks off and scare away another bear.

I also take offense at the "sissy" comment.  I wear panties and I can assure you that I am no sissy.  I'm fairly certain that I could kick your ass.  Or at the very least shoot it.  I'll remember to wear my flowery underwear this weekend when I'm rappelling down the side of a high-rise building for charity.

But let's get down to the Thanksgiving side dish elephant in the room--the creamed corn.  Seriously?  SERIOUSLY?  That's got to be the most f***ed up thing I've ever had someone email to me.  The only time corn should be in a diaper is after a toddler eats it...not so your junk can float around in some creamy cradle of maize.  Of course you would be doing this alone--because who, in all honesty, really wants to get in on this?  Maybe there's some dominatrix with a mashed potato fetish out there for you.  Whip those potatoes.  Whip it.

So that's what I think, and, no, you cannot be my bitch.  My sissy pants and I are bitch enough for both of us.

Riblets

I was swiping through Tinder and came across a profile that said, "I don't hunt but I like to BBQ."  I don't exactly see the correlation...I guess he assumes that the majority of carnivores are killing what they're grilling...whatever, but it does make me think I should be a little more forthcoming in my own online profile:

I'm not a mermaid but I like to swim.

I don't cluck but I have eggs.

I'm not a cat but I have lots of hair.

I don't work in a chocolate factory but I am short.

I'm don't plunder and pillage but I like rum and parrots.

I'm not a decomposing dinosaur but I do produce gas.

I like rainbows but I am straight.

I don't listen to country music but I've been in a pickup truck.

I'm not a table but I have legs.  (Also see "not a mermaid.")

I'm not a bear but I have shit in the woods.

And lastly:

I don't own a python but I do have online dating profiles.

Freaks without borders

It's always refreshing to know that I am not alone in my angst.  My good friend in Australia occasionally sends me screen shots of her own online matches to remind me that the situation isn't any better on the other side of the planet.

She rencently had this chat:

Oooh, normally I'd be all over this one except that I can't even floss my back molars without at least one dry heave.  Maybe someday he'll find a nice hot dog eating champion.  Or a funny garbage disposal.  There's an idea...he can go stick his junk in that.

Then the other night she sent me this prospect:

I'm not sure if this guy is seeking sexual partners or a circus troupe.  I have to laugh at the "no strings attached" fun.  Reading this, I assume that he wouldn't mind some strings or rope or what have you.  And that contortion trick...I didn't think that people who live down under actually go down under.  If he can do that, I ask you, does he really need one or two more people in the room?  

I tell you what, after reading these, I do.  One to fix me a margarita and the other to call the convent.