Okay, so I said I'd NEVER do this. And yes, my exact words on the matter were, "I will submit to an arranged marriage with a dungshoveler in rankest India before advertising myself online like a prize hog at the g-d county fair."

*eats words*

Having moved to a new city where I know NO ONE has raised my desperation levels to the point that I am now willing to brag about myself in the hopes that some man in a 100 mile radius will be able to carry on a passable conversation with me that doesn't go like this--

Dude--"Wha Up, you lookin' good, mamasita."
Self--"I'm old enough to be your mother, ese. And what's up with the pantyhose thingee on your head?"
Dude--"why don you come back to my rusty trailer wit me and my babymomma and find out?"

*laughs somewhat hollowly*

Er, I meant to type...um...something like, "I'm brilliant and witty and cute as a g-d button. Oh yeah, and humble. You know, kinda like Jesus, only humbler."

UPDATED UPDATE:

Another day brings yet another failed attempt to outsmart the nefarious (and unsettlingly thorough) editing staff over on yahoo personals. Fear not, for I WILL outsmart them, oh yes indeedy.

*attempts an evil laugh which segues into a smoker's cough, sighs and gives up*

So what if I can't use backwards writing, phonetic spelling or asininely complicated numerical codes to get out of paying? I have more tricks up my cheap little sleeve!

No, wait, those are just Trix leftover from breakfast.

*munches happily for a few minutes, then remembers her mission and glowers menacingly at her monitor*

Be forewarned Yahoo Powers-that-be, you are soon to feel my wrath.

And by "feel my wrath" I mean I am probably only three to four lame attempts away from giving in and paying them the dratted twenty-five bucks.

So there!!

REUPDATED UPDATE: My fourteenth attempt at encryting information into my yahoo personal was shot down for innapropriate language by the Yahoo powers-that-be. How is this possible?!

They once let (and I quote) "I will personally bitch-slap every single mentally inferior a-hole who uses gratuitious obscenity or violence as baby Jesus and I find both highly offensive," go through just fine, but as soon as I called them all a bunch of gestapo fucktards they shut me down.

And since when is douchebag a curse word? It's a feminine hygiene apparatus, for the love of all that's holy. And by "all that's holy" I mostly mean dudes with abs. Or dudes with one foot on the threshold of death and the other on the threshold of givin' me loads of unearned money. I'm piously romantic like that.

Hmm, where was I?
Oh right, random venting against Yahoo.

Then they accused me of cryptological hijinks! Moi! Did they not see my blondesque hair? My innocent dimples? Them's fightin' words, them is. This means war. WAR! Knock down, drag-out WAR. See this, PTB? This is my warface.

*warface undermined by abovementioned dimples*

reUPDATED UPDATED UPDATE

Haven't given up on my quest to bring down greedy bastard yahoo, but in the interim stumbled upon okcupid, which as you all know, is free and chock full of rediculous quizzes and the like. Am new to these parts and still figuring things out, but is it just me or there seem to be an freakishly high number of questions geared towards pervs? I've read more wholesome stuff on the walls of Vietnamese Gulags. Of course, I don't speak vietnamese, but am pretty sure my comparison is apt anyhow.

*shrugs*

So now my quest for free internet dating has led me here, and led me to wonder if perhaps I took a wrong turn in coming here and perhaps I should sop being so stubbornly frugal and just pay yahoo so I can get all those yummy emails from excons who wanna tell me all about the bitches that done 'em wrong. It's looking better and better ever since I answered/skipped no less than 58 questions about cross-dressing and gender reassignment. 58.

I am growing anxious that my wrong turn has led me to Trannieville, Kinksylvania. It wouldn't be the first time. Or the last, probably. I have a shitty sense of direction.

It would, however, be the first time without all those delicious cans of baked beans. Whatever happened to them, I wonder?

*scratches head*

Oh, and sans circus midgets with firearms.

*wipes nostalgic tear*

Good times. Miss ya Gary/Gertrude!!! You little beanhumpin',50 cal totin' scamp/vixen, you.

Sigh.

*clears throat awkwardly*

I am uber-brilliant, mega-witty, and ultra-humble

10 things I've done in the last year--

~Drove alone from Philly to El Paso in my old hoopdee
~Started lame blog dedicated to rants against the virus that is popculture
~Saw ten vultures on the side of the road and regarded it at a good omen (turkey vultures=rebirth)
~Wrote a novel that gained the attention of a real literary agent only to have her husband die when I was doing rewrites
~Tried to teach myself latin, then got distracted by Rock Hard 8-pack Abs magazine
~Fine tuned my beer] pallate and developed a deep appreciation for the almighty gods of hops
~Hiked part of the Appalacian trail
~Painted a mural of a Guinness advert on the side of someone's garden shed
~Dressed as "Bitter Hoe Peep" for Halloween and took second prize, in other words I was totally ROBBED
~Was carded 87,989885,897876765 times for various controlled substances, including rubber cement and spray paint

Three things I've done this week--

~Got and tactfully rejected a marriage proposal from a guy I went on two dates with and knew for a week

< begin note to self> Dear self, as a result of recent creepyness we will no longer be meeting men onli

*gets distracted by discovery of okcupid's funny quizzes which appeal to her dorkly nature and possibly the dorkly nature of a nonpsychotic man with the amazing superhumanlike ability to get her out of her house before she goes insane, and subsequently forgets what she was writing*

~Successfully quit smoking three times (go me!)

and

~Spent time I was supposed to be doing something productive on here answering "no", "no", and "hell no" to 675948576 questions about miscellaneous useless political shit and/or kink

~spehlling
~looking innocent
~rolling my eyes
~spin-doctoring
~sucking at monopoly

Most people have the perceptive abilities of a drunken turnip. That said, they mostly notice--

A) That I appear to be 18-23 years old (am thirty)
B) That I have a kickin' little body (Why doesn't anyone ever notice my modesty? Or the miniscule nature of my eency-weency ego? Why? WHY?!!? I am so effing modest it isn't even funny. And my ego could dance on the head of a pin. I mean, seriously. ON THE HEAD OF A PIN. Hows about you dudes notice that for a change, huh?! And it'd be goddamned good at it too. We are talking Travolta in SNF has a baby with Shakira only danciner.

Just once I want a man to be all like, "I couldn't care less that you are the greatest thing since sliced bread, Baby, what I really dig is your humility. Come to daddy you humble godesslike thing, you, Daddy wants to hear all about all that sexy selfless egolessness you got goin' on. Oh yeah."

~Food~ Don't eat. Food is overrated. I subsist on nothing except air and good karma. (Am into stupid new-agey b.s. like that and take it deadly serious, as I take all things, so tread lightly. Also I hate anorexics)

~Music~ Offbeat Oldies. Soulful stuff. Music that tells a story, takes you someplace besides Rageville. (as in anger, not as in 'against the machine', which is okay, actually)listen to NPR sometimes, or local college stations, but mostly radio blows. Classic classics. old clapton. the dead. dylan! jim croce. ccr. johnny cash. darker beatles (loathe fluffy boyband beatles). janis. blues! bluesy stuff. some jazz, some bluegrass, especially live. some reggae. beck. sublime. old beasties.

~Books~ Eclectic, nonfiction changes with passing fancies/obsessions, read mostly nonfic these days. Love, love, love mythology. All cultures. And Classics, Especially Twain, Hemingway. Enjoyed most of the canon, or at least appreciated them. Except Joyce. And all those long-winded Russians. Loathe Joyce and the long-winded Russians. Forevers and evers. Amen. Oh and Virginia Woolf pissed me off with her ramblings, too, but less so than the Russians. Shel Silverstein. Orwell. I'd take Tolstoy over Woolf only because I am sexist and think women writers are all mentally ill drunkards. Margaret Atwood. Roald Dahl. Vonnegut. Homer. Tom Robbins! Palahnik. My own unpublishable drivel. Wally Lamb. Dr. Suess.

~oxygen
~clean water
~edible vegetation
~sleep
~sunlight
~a knife

Psychology. Metaphysics. Trans fat. Dudes with abs. Where can I find good beer? Eastern & ancient religions. Why does el paso only seem to have shitty beer? How to attain enlightenment and free all sentinent beings from the sufferings of cyclic existance. Abs. Delicious, delicious abs. Should I just buy this sixpack of effing Sam Adams since it's the only decent one here? Mmm sixpack, beautiful double meaning there. How come I only get .0007 percent of quantum mechanics when I have an IQ with exponents? What would .0007 look like as a fraction? 7/1000 or 7/10000? Why do I care when 5/4 people don't get fractions at all. I'ms so smart. How do I know that when I've never been tested? Probably because I am so smart and use lotsa verbiage. Where the hell did I park my car? Is that my car? When did I get a jesus fish bumper sticker? Does my car really exist? Does anything? Is it hot enough to skunk my stupid sam adams before I get home? Oh, it says "NCHIPS" inside the fish, I remember thinking that was funny. This could potentially be my car, I do enjoy jesus so long as chips are involved. Only time will tell. Speaking of time, what the hell is time? Space/time. And is it just me or does shrodinger's cat sound like a whole assload of "we don't know so we're gonna make some complicated mathy shit up so people won't ask about it"?, Oh my god it is eighty grillion degrees in this car, which I am pretty sure is mine, but then again what does "mine" really mean? Life is a zero sum game and why do I have all these keys on here I never use? Washboard stomachs. I like to pet them. It took me four hours to find the correct key. If science has disproven old physics why do they still teach it? Obliques. And how can we have a valid new physics built on the wrongness that is old physics? Why is this dude going ten miles under the speed limit? Does he want me to undo ten years of positive karmic stockpiling by kicking him repeatedly in the obscenly-slow-moving neck until he dies? Is that what he wants? I haven't thought about abs in awhile, perhaps I am adjusting to the complete dearth of them in my life. What the hell is "cheese product food" and why is it so eerily plentiful? ooh, is that a topless joggerman...yes, I do believe it is...

Once upon a time I'd have all sorts of interesting shit to type here--not singin' show tunes at at gay bar in the Village, having my picture taken making out with the Rocky statue in front of the Philly Art Museum, backpacking/swimming in waterfalls in Rickett's Glen, Pa, riding on the back of a harley, watching my mancandy lose money he didn't have betting on horses, etc. but since the move I mostly drink two beers,play on my computer, try to brainwash myself into not hating El Paso, and avoid working on my manuscript which I have grown to loathe.(note: NOTHING is funny after rereading it 20,000 times. NOTHING. Except maybe that my ex's new gf calls him 'el tigre' in bed; now that's some funny shit there)

I was married ten years, have been divorced for almost two. I am friendlyish with my ex and with his new girlfriend. Yes, he is aware that I use him as the butt of jokes--we were married ten years and he is used to it, would probably be hurt if I stopped. He hopes one day to see something of mine published so he can attain international fame as said butt of jokes. He's a decent enough guy all said and I wish him well.

He and I married at 19 and never had anything in common. Out of our ten years of marriage he was gone for eight. I spent those years on stepford wife autopilot. I spent the last year doing all the things I missed out on during those empty years and am now hoping to strike a balance between extremes. I often say that I will never remarry but I have a tendency to change my mind if there is good enough reason to do so.

Category One--You have been legally allowed to watch PG13 movies since the anteclintonian era, have grown at least one gray hair and/or watched your graduating class do so with alarming regularity, and are not just looking to get laid.

Category Two--You don't match the above criteria but I for some reason stalked you. By all means, approach, but be forewarned my stalkings are sometimes insanely random and don't necessarily denote romantic interest.

Category Three--You want to comment on my writing, but won't get all butthurt if all you get back is a generic "thanks for reading and for the compliments/criticisms". I seriously can not become penpals with everybody, much as I'd like to come up with witty crap for every person who takes the time to message me, I have other things to do--these bonbons aren't just going to eat themselves, you know.