Ok, it’s time to address an important issue here, fellow bitches. This has become an epidemic. It’s addictive, takes up too much of your time, and more often than not it ends in disappointment. No, I’m not talking about sex…
I’m talking about online dating. Plenty of Fish, Tinder, OKCupid, Meet Me, Hot or Not, and so on and so forth.
This is the first time I have ever ventured in these dangerous waters. I will tell you that it did not last long. I kept deactivating my profiles…taking short breaks…and then I would be pulled right back in. It was like a…..
Let’s start with the process of creating a profile on any of these dating apps. First, you have to come up with a cheeky name. Of course, you don’t want to give out your real name. That could be disastrous. #Facebook stalkers, #Instagram stalkers, any kind of stalker in general. Then you have to talk about yourself. I don’t know about you, but when I am forced to describe myself in a paragraph or less I start to get nauseated. If you say too little then it’s weird and you look like you’re not putting in any effort. Say too much and you’re completely full of yourself. You can’t be completely honest, then you will look like a hoe (if you’re anything like me). Where is the happy middle ground here?
Oh God, now I have to upload photos of myself. Talk about nauseating. Poring through hundreds of photos on your phone…looking for the best ones, because you’re not going to upload that photo of you with fourteen chins and a McDouble half in your mouth. The best head shots only…but…I have to show some of my body, or I might be disappointing some guys when they see my chunky monkey ass under this cute face. Although, maybe a cleavage shot might make up for that. But then if I show cleavage I might be considered a thirsty hoe.
So you’ve got your shitty #POF profile created. Now you wait…you probably only have to wait about ten minutes for the messages to come pouring in. Now, if you’re male, you have to wait longer. I can’t even begin to estimate the number of messages I received from men. I would say about 99% of them were complete duds. The other 1% were worthy of talking to…but they eventually blew it. One of them even tried #Catfishing me. I shit you not. I have come to realize that ghetto ass black men and douchey white men just absolutely love me. I’m such a lucky girl. I’m sorry, I don’t want to deal with your four baby mamas, EBT card, or your lack of grammar. Yes, I did just go there. Deal. I would say that 99.9% of men on this app cannot form a complete sentence or carry on a conversation. Maybe I just want a fuck buddy, but you have got to know how to hold a convo with me, boy.
I did actually meet Bae on POF…that was a really fun two months of my summer. I’ll save that for another time, perhaps.
Then there is the wonderful world of #Tinder. I have heard from so many people that Tinder is for hookups and POF is for dating. Well, perfect… I am looking for a hookup. Preferably a steady hookup. No, God no. Run the other way. Tinder is the devil. Do you have any idea how many left swipes I took? God forbid I accidentally swipe left on a guy I thought was really cute. Dammit, can’t take it back. I might have swiped left on the hookup of my life. No, not really. Because once you both swipe right and have the ability to message each other…it goes to complete shit. 99% of the time they don’t even talk to you after they have swiped. So I am forced to start the conversations. Thanks for making me feel like the dude, you fucking pussy. Grow some balls and talk to me. These guys are supposedly looking for a girl who loves to have sex and doesn’t want strings but when push comes to shove they are just big gigantic smelly pussies. No balls seen for days. I actually went on a date with a guy from Tinder. To a ghetto ass miniature golf course; the shit was falling apart. I actually stopped what I was doing to repair hole 8. He was significantly shorter than me (I’m only 5’8″ ya’ll), had much smaller arms than his profile pic showed, and kissed like a 12 year old girl. That was the end of my Tindering.
The funny thing is…as soon as I completely swore off online dating, I met someone while I was out one night. IN REAL LIFE, bitches. Not on a dating app. Whodathunk? That will be for another time as well.
I think my message here is quite simple. When it comes to online dating, just don’t do it. Save yourself from the stress of possibly being rejected and from the stress of dodging the peen that comes flying at you every ten minutes, every hour, every day…