The pictures are real. I am black & white in person. I am merely alone and available and if I were seeking a life partner, it is statistically very unlikely that you would be it. Or s[t]he[y].
Did I just invent an instantly obsolete gender neutral pronoun?
I believe there is a subset of Poly called Cranky, and there's far less cuddling involved.
You: Do you burn?
Me: I don't even melt.
Recently someone asked me, "If you write that you're looking for short term relationships, why don't you say you're looking for casual sex?"
I replied, "Because I'm not casual about anything."
You are in a painfully dim room, illuminated only by the reality television show that you watch to make your life seem just a bit less miserable. Because at least you're not whoring yourself out for nitrous, or burying yourself in expired yogurt cartons, or pawning your autographed Judge Landis baseball card to pay off a gambling debt you won't admit to. You are better than them. You must be. You still cling to a little scrap of paper with the word HOPE written on it. So you put the TV on mute and go to your Bose sound machine your father gave you -- the one that now is the color of coffee with too much half and half instead of whatever white it used to be. You plug in your i-whatever and seek through to your collection of Morrissey tracks. You set it to shuffle. You set it to play. And you tweak the volume to a level just audible enough to make you melancholy but not loud enough to distract you from your mission.
Hello, once hopeful one. And welcome to the Sad Sack Dating Site.