I should know. I’ve “dated” at least ten of them, and the other hundred I’ve had any sort of conversation with had a vast variety of faults that will kill any vibe that I might be capable of feeling before it can sprout, regardless of where I meet them.
I’m old now, nearly 25. I don’t have the time or energy to invest in temporary men with shallow intentions. Plus, a lot of the time, I don’t “like” people because I find them physically attractive, but because their profiles either showed we had important things in common (books, writing, art, liberal beliefs, etc.) or that they have senses of humor (who couldn’t use more funny friends?). So no, I probably don’t want to fuck you. Just because I thought you worthy enough to warrant a value-less “like”, definitely doesn’t mean you deserve my body.
I’m way too out of shape to chase new “friendships”. We’ll use that word loosely since most people on Tinder (or whatever you use), aren’t there for hugs and Harry Potter marathons and cuddling. Friendships are only forged when both people bring fire. Of course, fire is a limitless natural element that only needs oxygen to grow, but starving it of air will kill it quickly. So if you’re really trying to be friends, you’ve got to blow on the fire. I’ll blow yours if you blow mine (fire being the amount of interest we hold for the other person), and yes, that was a dirty joke, because I’m nasty like that. 😉
You should assume that I don’t fucking know you, probably because…I don’t fucking know you. If you’re too lazy to open up the app to send messages, wait for my replies, and repeat the process to reply to my replies, it’s unlikely that you’re going to have the energy to keep up with another person (not even specifically me). Nobody really likes laziness, do they? If you can’t open up a dating app enough times to woo me, long enough to earn enough trust or interest that I’d even consider giving you my number (without your asking), then you’re probably going to piss me off.
Like, damn, you can’t pretend to want to get to know me for 10 whole messages before you start trying to get your dick inside me? I don’t even understand how people can be bold enough to ask for sex from a girl they haven’t even set eyes on. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with casual sex. Hell, if you haven’t been keeping up or haven’t yet read some of my other sexier posts, then I’ll tell you now that I wholeheartedly believe in the freeing power of having sex with people that you literally do not care about or even slightly more meaningful sexual relationships with friends. I think what’s most annoying about being asked for sex by total strangers is that there’s some kind of assumption that I’d even be interested in sharing my body with a total stranger. Sure, I’ve done it before, but during those times, I had a long history of at least 3 hours with those guys. I’ve still got class people. If I’m not offering, don’t bring it up.
Look, I’m sure lots of people think asking personal questions is how you get to know other people, but shit. If we’re still communicating through the Tinder app, that means I don’t like you enough to give you my number, sit down to have coffee with you, or add you on Facebook. That basically means that you haven’t yet earned enough brownie points to allow you to ask personal questions, so don’t ask me where I get inspiration for my erotica stories. I like sex. That’s about all I’m going to tell you. Don’t ask me about some fuck boy ex-boyfriend I wrote about in a blog post. I don’t want to talk to you about it because we don’t have that kind of trust. (This doesn’t apply to my regular readers, because you guys are awesome and don’t sexually harass me, and I appreciate all of you for that.)
Do you really think I’m stupid? Anyone with a sliver of a brain has to know that’s code word for nudes, except you don’t have the balls or arrogance to just say that. If I’ve never laid eyes or lips on you, there’s a 315% chance that you are not getting nudes or “full body” photos from me, and now, you have been granted my permission to die.
Like, I don’t have the time or energy to get dolled up to leave the house for some guy who has a 500% chance of being a total asshole (if you’ve been keeping up, then you’ll know that I tend to attract very terrible men, so this is an accurate number). It is necessary to weed out the bad men just like you pick out all of the marshmallows from the Lucky Charms. I just don’t like bland, unoriginal, cookie-cutter men.
How lazy are you? Clearly, if you’re asking me the question, I’m going to have to just type it all out again, minus the patient cleverness used in my profile and probably with a heavy tinge of bad attitude. Also, this doubly annoys me because, not only did you not read the profile, this also solidifies the idea in my mind that you only swiped right because you saw me, sexualized me, and decided I was fuckable, which would totally be fine if you had read the fucking profile and hadn’t asked me something I’d already answered for the masses.
We all have spellcheck on our phones. So what the hell? What kind of writer could possibly find any real interest in someone who doesn’t believe in the power of the well-written word?
Seriously? I like to drink, but I don’t list “alcoholism” as a personality trait. Get a real fucking hobby. People who don’t have any real interests can’t possibly know themselves well enough to invite other people into their lives.
Well, this was a brief rant about some of the terrible things I have experienced from my exploration of online dating. I’d love to see what things all of you have been subjected to from your favorite dating apps. Let me know in the comments belooooow.
Hugs, bugs, and jiggly jugs,
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