The trick with fortune cookies and horoscopes is that they are vague enough to shoehorn the specifics of your life to match them, whatever those specifics may be. It occurred to me that Internet dating profiles are the same way. She says she’s looking for someone who’s fun and has a great sense of humor and likes to travel. That pretty much narrows it down to “human”. Everyone thinks reasonably well of themselves, otherwise they’re not posting a public profile.
Even the part that lists specific requirements like age and height and body type are squinted at until they match the reader. She wants someone no older than 40, but she’s 38, so the 47 year old man thinks, “I’m good enough” (and if she has kids, he’s right). He wants someone of average or slender build and she thinks, “Why, that’s what I put on my profile!” Um, yeah, about that.
Dating profiles are sales brochures and daters are used car salesmen. Honesty is out the window because it would never get you anywhere. If I lived in a world where honesty was rewarded instead of punished, here is the profile I would write:
I am old. At least I should be compared to you, because I’m looking for someone just north of the age of consent. I want to shatter social barriers, particularly the one that says you need to date someone at least half your age plus seven. Unless it’s 7 days, in which case I’ll meet you in Vegas. Sorry, I cannot transport minors across state lines for what I’d like us to do.
You should be drop dead gorgeous, and by gorgeous I mean not fat, and by not fat I mean skinny. I do not mean voluptuous or thick or a few extra pounds. I also do not mean average, because you apparently have bought into the notion that average is fat. Athletic does not mean built like a linebacker and fit does not mean you fit through a standard doorway. I’m really looking for petite, and if you think 5’2″ and 274lbs is petite, it’s time to become familiar with Mr. Webster and his wonderful book of word meanings. If your photo doesn’t show your body, I will look at your upper arms. If they’re fat, you’re fat. If they aren’t showing, you’re fat. If there’s no picture, well, I didn’t view your profile.
For purposes of full disclosure, I am fat. I am not average, nor do I have a few extra pounds, unless we’re talking about exceptionally large values of “few”. Even “large” bestows a certain kindness I do not believe I’m worthy of. Shaq is large. I am fat. If you don’t find that attractive, that’s OK, neither do I.
You should also have a very tight vagina because I am hung less like a bear and more like a gerbil. However, I am willing to compensate by using toys in the bedroom, provided they are not much bigger than my own toy – I do not want to compromise said tightness. I’m thinking peanut-sized vibrators. (To avoid ambiguity, I mean a single, unshelled peanut. Probably powered by a watch battery.) Don’t worry; I have small, dexterous hands, like an elf.
I’m also willing to try anal sex, and by “willing to try” I mean I’ll beg until your ears bleed. And just to be clear, I mean your anus, not mine.
You should be pleasant to be around and not constantly bitter about something. You should not be like the wife on Everybody Loves Raymond or Dead Like Me. Sarcasm is fine, even welcome, assuming it’s not at my expense.
Of course, the bitter, angry TV wives are probably that way because they have kids. You should not have kids. Anywhere. If you want kids, that’s OK, assuming you’re also OK with not getting what you want. I would be willing to both marry you and impregnate you if you are independently wealthy so I can stay home and watch you take care of the kids. I’d also be OK with watching an au pair take care of the kids. I might even prefer that.
I realize that if you’re attractive but still willing to date me, you’re going to have some issues with self esteem. Please let it not be at soul crushing levels. When I say you look cute in those jeans, do not assume you look hideous in every other piece of apparel you own. If I explain something, I am not assuming you are ignorant for not knowing it. If I don’t explain something that you didn’t already understand, I won’t assume that means you are stupid. Unless it’s something really simple and obvious, in which case of course I’ll think you’re stupid, but would never say that to your face, just to my friends.
Also, it would be great if your low self esteem did not create a need for approval that fosters serial adultery. Adultery can lead to VDs and a loss of vagina tightness, both of which I am against. It should not foster drug use, either. You should escape reality using socially acceptable forms of entertainment, like movies and TV and comic books, like I do.
Oh, I almost forgot. Even though it already clearly states this in my profile, I want to reiterate that you have to be a woman. By which I mean born a woman. No, I don’t mean born to be a woman. I do not mean you consider yourself a woman. I mean you can not have a penis, nor have ever had a penis. I know I’m laboring the point, but you trannies are like lawyers with this shit. I’m not questioning your choice, and sure, it would be great if there were an extra box in the gender section for trannies so I could not check it, although, let’s face it, you’d probably assume I accidentally overlooked it. I’m just saying that responding to this ad is an absolute waste of your time and mine, unless you’re writing to tell me what, specifically, in my profile suggests I’d even remotely consider dating a transexual. I will remove that part post-haste (just like you did!). Unless it’s the part where I say I’m interested in a woman, and you’d like to point out that you are a woman. I don’t care how tight that doctor in Thailand made your vagina. Please, just skip it. Thanks.