Saturday, August 29, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 15: Spell check not required!


Finally, a guy who understands the importance of spelling! How refreshing. He knows "the difference between 'your' and 'you're'."

Hallelujah!

He's "looking for someone" who is "not psycho."

I've seen that word often lately, which makes me wonder about the caliber of women on these dating sites. I wish I could filter through the females on chemistry.com to see "the other side."

"No tendencies to decorate in pink."

Check.

"Not a bible thumper."

Check. (Bible should be in caps, but we'll let him slide on that one.)

"Bonus points if you know how to drive a stick shift."

Double check. I learned how to drive a stick when I learned how to drive. I even took my driver's test using a manual transmission. I miss my 1980 green Volvo "tank." Okay, not really.

"Points deducted if you're a picky eater."

I will eat basically anything, except lima beans and liver. (Note his correct use of the word "you're." High five.)

"I recently went to 'the river' for the first time and I gotta say, that was a hoot."

River should be capitalized. Gotta isn't a word. No comma before that. Who says "hoot" when not in conjunction with an owl? I've never heard of the Colorado River being called a "hoot." I wouldn't exactly call underage drinking and teenage orgies a "hoot." Yes, I've seen that, and yes, it was disturbing, but that was a holiday weekend. Maybe he was there on a weekday right after school started. Who knows.

"I'm right-handed in everything I do except eat."

Well, there's a picture. He forgot to mention his left hand comes in darn handy for looking up Internet porn.

The next guy does nothing to curb my apprehension about meeting total strangers for dates. He's an experienced Internet dater who is going "to try one last time to actually meet someone who is who they say they are."

Oh boy. This should be good.


"I have met a few women on-line with no success. I met someone who was attractive in her picture, although in person had no teeth."

No teeth? Poor guy. How is it that a person could end up with not one single tooth? Even people who barely take care of their teeth at least have a few dirty chompers. I would love to know the story behind a woman living in 2009 in Southern California who has NO teeth. You know what? He has to be lying. I believed him for a second because I'm THAT gullible.

"I met someone intelligent and witty who also wanted children within two hours of us meeting..."

Now THAT I can believe. Desperate people walk these streets. Talk about a foolproof way to send someone running. Someone needs to teach that woman a couple rules about keeping a man around, instead of watching the dust cloud form behind him like Wile E. Coyote.

"I met someone who seemed refined and well balanced, however got naked on the dinner table at a local restaurant after only one drink."

I call bullsh*t on that run-on sentence. That did not happen. It just didn't. This is the part where he reveals the joke to show what a great sense of humor he has. Only, he doesn't do that. He's totally serious. Strange.

I'm still trying to figure out what the next headline means: "Every day my sock drawer is a little game of concentration..."

A) He doesn't fold his socks and can't find matches.
B) He loses socks in the laundry and can't find matches.

C) Half his socks have holes in them, and he has to dig for the good ones.
D) Why is this important again?

He takes the sarcasm route to start, as many tend to do: "First of all, I'm terribly boring, and not very smart either; but occasionally an interesting thought passes through my head...No, scratch that...I've never had an interesting thought...and come to think of it, I may be really boring..."

I understand he's trying to be funny, but I really don't find this all that humorous. He used the word "boring" twice to try to prove that he is, in fact, NOT boring. He also misused a semicolon, but at least he's in the ballpark of semicolon usage, unlike the guy who threw it in the middle of the sentence for no reason. I can't let him go for all those ellipses though. They are supposed to be in place of words that aren't there, but they are overused to show pauses. Must...stop...doing...that...dude.

He's "always interested in learning new things. (I believe welding is next on the list!)"

Welding is not at the top of my bucket list. I don't think I'll be lying on my death bed with tubes coming out of my nose, frail and weak, thinking, "My life would be complete, if only I had learned to weld." I don't know about you, but I'm kind of over this guy.

Here we have a systems administrator who seems to be mildly obsessed with Brad Pitt.

Join the club, bucko.

"I like to think I resemble Brad Pitt, but I don't."

At least he's honest.

"But I am way more compassionate than he is, and I'm nicer and have stronger morals than he does."

How does he know that? Does he know Brad Pitt? Oh my god! He knows Brad Pitt! Maybe I should ask for an introduction.

Later, he says, "I also like to talk in metaphors and hyberbole."

What was my first clue?

"I am a liberal/conservative/centrist hybrid."

Definite hyberbole. Is that even possible?

"What I don't want in a partner is a meanie. Or Brad Pitt."

That makes one of us.

Cheers,

The Grammar Nazi

Monday, August 24, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 14: Que Sara Sara




















Who is Sara? Is she your girlfriend? If you have a girlfriend already, why are you on a dating site? Perhaps Sara is the one who got away. By the way, it's spelled sera, F*ck Face.

This one fancies himself an intellectual who watches the History Channel and PBS.

Yet, he would make Doris Day cringe if she saw how he misspelled her classic song. What will be will be Sara, apparently.

He lists as one of his favorite recent movies "Moliere'."

If you don't know where to put the accent mark, don't put it anywhere, dude. Besides, that's not even an accent mark. (Insert John Hughes "Moe-lay-really-pumps-my-nads" reference here, for all you self-proclaimed pop culture junkies.)

What's most special about this guy's profile is the use of the word "allot." As in "a lot." And he used it no fewer than three times.

The overuse of "a lot" is bad enough without the misspelling. You will now find Grammar Nazi crying in the fetal position, rocking, sucking my thumb and speaking gibberish. I have few strands of hair left on my head at this point. I don't know how I'm going to make it to October reading these profiles.

I continue to cry as I read the next one. Scratch that. I'm sobbing now. This sailor likes to "party wityh [his] friends."

If you don't have enough common sense to catch a perfectly catch-able typo, don't bother trying to find your next ex-wife, pal.

Remember that man a long time ago who misspelled the word "intelligent"? You didn't think it could happen again, but it did because people are crazy stupid around these parts. This one says he wants to find an "inteligent" woman.

I even think he misspelled the word differently from the last spelling-challenged dumb*ss. Alternate spellings of "intelligent": Let me count the ways.

He also wants someone "atractive" who "enjoys quite and introspevtive moments with a book..."

No amount of spell-checking will help this man, and I doubt he's ever picked up a book in his life, and yet, he makes more money than I do. What the f*ck is wrong with this world?

He was "raced Catholic."

Dear God: Make it stop.

He lists his job as "enginerring design."

Dear God: Why didn't you listen to me? Hello?

Okay, moving on. I found someone who can spell. In Latin. His headline reads similia similibus curantur.

I admit I had to look it up because I can't stand not to know what something means if I don't understand it. Thank you, Google. How did I live without you?

What Smarty Pants meant is "likes are cured with likes," but the definition I found was this: "
The homeopathic axiom expressing the law of similars or the doctrine that any drug capable of producing detrimental symptoms in healthy individuals will relieve similar symptoms occurring as an expression of disease." (from answers.com)

So his tag line is basically about anti-venom. How romantic.

Next he says, "What words can I spill out onto your screen that would be the window to my world, my soul..."

How about you start with something other than a reference to drugs and disease. Just a thought.
Side note: Who uses the words "window to my world, my soul" with a straight face? Seriously. My tears have turned to giggles. I see progress here.

And just in time for another poem! It has been awhile since we dissected a poem. A faceless man with a name that rhymes with "gargles" has just provided us with some literary couplets rivaling Shakespeare. Let's take a gander. The unfortunate and irrelevant title is "Scooby dooby doo":

"I am me and thats who i be.
you are you I put simply."

A rhyming couplet even. Goody.

"you with me we could be we...don't you see?"

I with you could be glue. Comprende?

"how much would could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could bench press 150lbs?"


Maybe a woodchuck wouldn't just chuck "would." Maybe it would also chuck "should" and "could."

"I once knew a girl from nantuckette,
who really liked to say 'funky towwwn."

Did I mention this man is forty-years-old, lives in Beverly Hills and also makes more money than I do? Excuse me while I load this gun.

"Hope you found this interesting and entertaining."


Sorry, Marlowe. Try again. On second thought, please just go away.

Here's a "new member" who says, "I love the recession" where his profession should be. His headline says, "Probably not the profile you're looking for."

Probably?


The first sentence of the first line is "'Chemistry' must be the single mosted used word in profiles..."

Mosted. Yes, he said mosted. I think the mosted used words in these profiles should be, "Hey, if you don't mind someone who is functionally literate, we're in business."

I rest my case with the next bozo, who thinks he "could be the perfect one for you." In his one paragraph, he misspells "buisness," possibbly," "legitamate" and says, "I'am."

The gun is now cocked and ready. I may rewrite my profile with a headline in bold letters: ATTENTION MEN OF CHEMISTRY.COM: CHECK YOUR SPELLING AND PROOFREAD. Something tells me the effort would be futile.

See you soon, if I'm still here,

The Grammar Nazi

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 13: What's the Point of Being So Picky?

Here we have a filmmaker who says his friends tell him, "'You never miss a chance to make a bad first impression!' So this will prolly be that...I'm a writer and general wordsmith..."

He was right about one thing: He made a poor first impression. He was wrong about another thing: No "general wordsmith" uses a word like "prolly." Prolly is not even a word, or didn't this "writer" realize that?

"Double pigeon in yoga always feels like I've been assaulted."

What the hell is a double pigeon and why do I care if you can't do it? (Fun fact: Did you know pigeons are just rats with wings? The more you know...)

"I have three bicycles."

I have one, and I just fell off of it, slid down the sidewalk and tore the crap out of my knee. I think I'll stay away from anything involving two wheels for awhile.

The next guy calls himself a "bon vivant." He "chews with his mouth closed."

Gosh, is he potty trained too? If so, I may have found my dream guy. It would help if he knew how to tie his shoes and make his own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Maybe if he's lucky, I'll teach him how to drive a stick shift after he gets his driver's permit.

He wants to "learn to fly."

Whoa, one thing at a time, little buddy. Now ease up on that clutch as you shift into second. Don't grind the gears, and take your other foot off the brake!

He requests a woman with "no violent felony convictions."

Well, there was that one time, but he was really asking for it, and I never was convicted, so it really doesn't count. Does it?

Daniel wants a woman with "no baggage."



















NO baggage? I can understand not wanting a woman who needs a police escort for her baggage, but NO baggage in your late thirties? Surely a single woman pushing forty has SOME baggage if she hasn't been living under a rock for the last twenty years. He's going to be hard-pressed to find a baggage-free lady. Packing light has never been my specialty, but I'm learning. The college boyfriend who broke my heart used to take up a room full of suitcases. Now he fits snugly in my makeup bag. My ex-husband is probably the equivalent of that last pair of shoes you probably won't wear on your trip, but you take them anyway because you don't want to be left with sneakers when you need boots. Unfortunately, shoes are what make the bag heaviest. I also pack a lot of black clothes because they go with everything (and because I like black), and I have found they fit better if I roll them up instead of folding them, but I honestly have no idea how that fits into this baggage metaphor. So never mind.

Oh look! Another writer. I see a pattern. This one says, "Since there's no way to do this without sounding somewhat like a Cal Worthington used-car ad, I'll just give you the facts."

I wonder how many dogs Cal has named Spot by now. Is that commercial still running? Am I the only one who used to think the lyrics to the song were "pussy cow, pussy cow, pussy cow," instead of "go see Cal"?

One of the "facts" about this guy is that he likes to figure out "the fancy-schmancy procedure for drinking the bottle of absinthe on [his] shelf."

Yikes. I'll just stick to vodka and wine.

We have someone here who is stuck in the '80s. First he references a local Southern California commercial from when remote controls were still attached to the TV. Now this: "I'm looking for someone who doesn't use the phrase 'love connection,' unless it's in conjunction with Chuck Woolery."

I have news for him. No one talks about the game show Love Connection anymore. That show has been gone for YEARS. New unwatchable "reality" shows have sprung up since the days of The Newlywed Game and The Dating Game. You know, like The Bachelor and Rock of Love. Crap like that. What year is this? Get with the program, dude.

Onward and hopefully upward. Ooo, here's one: "Describing oneself is always a complicated thing...how does one, without subjective questioning; manage to successfully speak of their self without sounding conceited or goofy?"

You thought I was going to make it a whole day without nitpicking someone's grammar, didn't you? Sorry, you were dead wrong. There's nothing worse than a person who TRIES to sound sophisticated and, in the process, totally effs up the English language. "I'll just throw in a semicolon anywhere just so it looks like I know how to use one." One should not use a semicolon if one does not understand the concept of one. Stop saying one when you're talking about yourself, mister! Congratulations. You've pulled off sounding goofy after all.

Last one for today: "I never take NO for an answer."

Yes, you do. *Delete.*

Annoyed as always,

The Grammar Nazi

Monday, August 17, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 12: Insert Witticism Here

I have now managed to run out of possible matches twice since I signed up for chemistry.com five weeks ago. I have spent too much time looking for weirdos and their strange comments for this blog, but it has been entertaining.

The first time the site said, "You have no more matches," I laughed and updated my facebook status. Then I expanded the age range of men I was looking for; this time, I'm not sure what to do. My requirement settings are too broad as it is. I will continue to look for the absurd to pass the time, which brings me to the scariest "match" thus far:


He's a consultant.

Of what, I am unaware.


He's "trying to find the right person."

As opposed to the left person?

"but I'm incredible self centred, selfish and mean. Don't expect a response unless you can tolerate that. Must like expensive wine, whisky and brandy and not complain about cigars smoke."

Who in her right (or left) mind would respond to this a-hole? Cigars are the least of your problems if you date this bottom-feeder (and butchering enemy of the English language).

He has a Ph.D.
(in what? He can't even spell "centered"), and he's "heavyset." There is no photo.

This is the antithesis of a profile that solicits a response. I would be shocked to learn someone had sent him an "I'm interested in you" email. He's wasting his money.
He should continue to spend it on whiskey, wine and cigars. On the other hand, plenty of women gladly take abuse. Even OJ was able to nail down a girlfriend who looked like a clone of the wife he already murdered. "Dumbest woman alive" doesn't even begin to describe her. I guess there really is "someone for everyone."

Next, we have a "chocolate-eater" by trade.

Hey, we're on the same career track. That's a good start.

"I'm looking for the Alpha and Omega. Shame I'm a beta."

Is incoherence a side-effect of antioxidants?

"On the other hand that gumdrops frootyloops builder's crack cheesecake surprise. If you know what I mean. And I think you do."

Maybe I would understand what the hell you're talking about if I had also dropped acid this morning, which you clearly have.

"I think you've been saving while I've been spending."

You have been spending too much dough on LSD, Crack Boy. Call me when you come down from your heroin binge, and keep your frootyloop surprises to yourself.

And the award for the worst grammar goes to...

"Here I'm is!"

Here I'm is. Here I'm is? Say that ten times quickly. I bet you can't do it. I give the man props for turning the easiest expression into a jumbled mess. Drop the "is" and the contraction and you'll be in business, buddy: Here I am! Is that so difficult? This man was awarded a bachelor's degree, according to his profile. If that's truly the case, even if he received a bachelor's in basket-weaving, the university should be boarded and wrapped judiciously in yellow caution tape. His professors, his parents, his friends, his coworkers and every person he has ever met have failed him.

"Am trying to become a more avid reader..."

There are not enough books in the world to save you. Give up now.

Never fear, we've now come to Mr. Fix-It, a quality engineer who "[fixes] stuff and makes things better."

I can now breathe a sigh of relief. Here's the man who is going to kiss it and make it better. He's a solid, respectable guy.

"The last four funerals I went too...I had people laughing...yes actually laughing their ever-loving asses off."

Oh for f*ck's sake. I don't think I'd be bragging about my penchant for turning a mourning into a comedic performance. Classy. It's one thing to laugh at a funeral. It's another thing to purposefully use every funeral you go to as a standup act. What kind of jokes do you tell at a funeral anyway? "A priest, a gravedigger and a dead guy all walk into a bar..." Ugh. (I'm not even going to mention his misuse of the word "too." Oh wait...)

Here we go! Frootyloops has a match! It's a shame he's not gay, especially with a name like Frootyloops. The headline of his perfect male counterpart reads, "Lets trip together."

First, let's learn how to use apostrophes. Then, I'll give you Cheesecake Surprise's number, and you two can have a field day with some shrooms. I will even throw in some Ghirardelli
squares just so you leave me alone.

The tripper is a "waste water technicition."

Has he been DRINKING the waste water? He can't spell technician and he is one. I fear for the future of this country.

I also fear for the mindless girl who believes the next guy's shtick. "Just know this...I am a God among men when it comes to satisfying a woman...The thralls of exstacy and pleasure go beyond any definition of such words or ideas."

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ahhahhahahahahahaa! This divorced locksmith looks like a greasy chump. I'd rather never have sex again than sleep with this delusional, ridiculous, egotistical sleezeball.

His tagline makes my brain hurt: Aragorn seeking Arwen: Where is my Ezer Kenegdo?

That's it. I'm going to die alone.

Fondly yours,

The Grammar Nazi

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 11: Consciousand focused




















"Consciousand focused," huh?

Conscious enough to hit the space bar between words? No? Okay. The saddest part is this guy's headline is the most interesting part of his profile. I think he meant to say "conscientious." Don't you? Conscious just means he's awake. I like my men awake on dates. It makes little things like conversation more palatable (and possible), unless he talks in his sleep, which is also fun because then you can ask him personal questions he wouldn't normally answer while awake. On second thought, I want my man unconscious. I like a challenge.

His profession? You guessed it: writer.

I found another anti-women's-rights macho man. "I don't believe men and women are equal. I want a woman who feels comfortable playing the role of a traditional partner." He's not interested in meeting a woman who is "overly fanatical about [her] career, [and her] 'independence'..."

He doesn't want a small thing like "personal freedom" to get in the way. He wants to take away your right to vote and turn you into a baby factory. Know your place, girlfriend! It's in the kitchen or the laundry room or the bedroom when he feels up to it. He also doesn't believe the female orgasm exists. What a ridiculous myth! Be sure to have that dry martini with two olives (Not one, not three, TWO!) ready when he walks in the door from work. Or else.

Can I just say I'm getting tired of the guys who jokingly refer to being potty trained? Here's one who is no exception: "I am fully pottie trained and haven't had an accident in years."

Cute. He can use the big boy chair, but he can't spell it. Plus, he'll only have another "accident" if he's really, really drunk.

"I am allergic to pain."

Wuss. (I know. I know. Pot meet kettle.)

"I get frustrated by ... being requested to push 1 on the telephone to listen to messages in English."

It's so difficult to push a button, isn't it? After one phone call to the credit card company, I just write-off going to the gym because I had to push sixteen whole buttons when asked for my account number. Someone hand me my water bottle and a towel. My index finger hurts.

What the hell is a "bag slinger?" That's what the next guy wrote as his profession.

I either envision someone pitching sandbags to create a wall, or tossing an old lady around at a nursing home. The latter is the more attractive of the two, but still leaves something to be desired.

On to a Brit who "has [his] green card."

He wants to reassure you that you don't have to marry him so he can stick around. Good thinking.

But then he says, "p.s. These are not good pics of me but the only ones I have right now. Much better in person. I do not need to wear glasses these are to stop the glare of my monitor at work."

Oh lordy. You don't have to make excuses! Plus, in his profile photo he's wearing glasses outdoors next to a big green fern that looks like it's going to swallow him from behind. He's nowhere near a computer screen. The glare off that foliage is blinding, I tell ya! Is there another word for "next!" I've used that one already.

"Love kids and politics?"

Yep, I love kids AND politics. Whenever I think of kids, I think of politics. They go hand-in-hand, don't they? Wars, health care, Legos, formula...

This professor teaches two classes: "One is on the political history of the nuclear disarmament movement going back to WWII."

Zzzzzzz...huh, what did you just say? You lost me.

The other is "the social and emotional challenges of children with developmental disabilities like autism."

Hence the children and politics comment. Wow, how did he end up teaching two such disparate college-level topics? Something tells me the conversations we'd have would be way out of my league. I like a smart man, and usually one who is smarter than me, but this guy would make me feel downright dumb.

Tommy is a "man for all seasons," but he only likes hippies. "The type of personality I am attracted to is becoming increasingly hard to find. I drive a 'status symbol' car, and have a 'status symbol career,' yet I like 'hippies.'"

And I thought I had problems. Single white yuppie seeks Janis Joplin. Just don't toke in my Mercedes because it will strip that new leather smell. We'll spend our nights in my Newport Beach mansion listening to Hendrix. I'll have my maid wash your tie-dye shirts. Champagne, caviar, incense and patchouli, baby.


Smooches,

The Grammar Nazi

Monday, August 10, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 10: Every Frog Needs a Princess















The guy who wrote this tag line is not as unattractive as many of the guys I've come across on chemistry.com. I wonder why he considers himself a frog. Does he think he'll turn into Brad Pitt if the right girl kisses him? I'll get Angie on the phone. He's a "sucker for a woman with a point of view."

It doesn't matter what your point of view is, as long as you have one. You can be passionate about banning classic literature, leading protests in front of university libraries. That's okay by him. He just likes a woman with a bullhorn and a loud voice.

He likes "foot rubs and sweet nothings over the phone."

The boy has talent. He can massage your toes via voicemail. Count me in.

He confesses that while he's writing this, he's watching a chick flick with Jude Law and Cameron Diaz, and of course, they "ended up happily ever after."

Of course they did! It's a romantic comedy, most of which have the same formula. Boy meets girl. Girl is initially annoyed with boy, even though he's gorgeous. Hilarity ensues while boy tries to win her over. She dates or pines after the wrong boy in the meantime, and doesn't see the true love right in front of her face. They later have a moment in which she realizes her mistake. They kiss. Things are happy for a short time, and then he does something to piss her off, or there is a huge misunderstanding. They fight. They make up because he catches a taxi to the airport and runs to the gate to tell her he loves her before she can run off to take a new job in Paris. They live happily ever after. The end. (This is the storyline for every movie Katherine Heigl has ever made. It makes people who dislike change and reality happy. It's unoriginal, but it works.) Does Mr. Toad really believe this sort of thing happens in real life? Silly, deluded amphibian.

The next guy doesn't seem to be living in a dream world, but he's offbeat to say the least. "I don't do well around 'normals.'"

Of course not. Normals are boring. It's the crazies who make life interesting. Duh.

"I'ver never danced before in my life."

Never? Not even at a wedding when you were twelve and your mom forced you to wear a button-down shirt and slacks without holes in them?

"If you're into that (dancing), you're gonna have someone that dances like Frankenstein with a hemorrhoid flare-up and a sleepy foot as a partner."

But I thought you've never danced before. How do you know you're bad if you have never tried it? Somebody needs a lesson, but not from me.

I like the next guy. He's not picky. "I really am not interested in filtering out anybody..."

What he's saying is he's basically the opposite of me. I have yet to talk to anyone on this website. After what I've read, I even fear the guys who seem to be smart and interesting. What if they aren't who they claim to be? I'm a big chicken. I admit it. The idea of knowing anything about anyone based on a couple photos and a few paragraphs is asinine. Maybe I should give someone a chance.

Or not. Take this profile, for instance: "IM IN CONSTRUCTION BUT IT SUCKS SO BAD THIS YEAR!!!"

STOP YELLING. Please note this guy is 35, not 12, and does not look like he has a mental disability, which makes this next part mind-boggling:

"I DON'T THINK I CAN SAY ANY MORE BS...JUST WOULD LIKE TOO SEE REALLALITY AND ACTUALITY. I HAVE NO MORE TOO SAY, THIS RULE SUCKS. I HOPE I HAVE TYPD ENOUGH BUT I THINK NOT!

I would like to say, on record, that this man's third grade teacher should be taken out back and shot. Let's throw in his ninth grade English teacher too, just for good measure. Wow, just wow. Remember, I am PAYING for this sh*t. Oh wait. He lives in Huntington Beach. That explains a lot.

Take a deep breath and flip the page to Jack, who has "no sense of humor but [he's] working on it."

How do you "work on" getting a sense of humor if you don't have one to begin with? Can you imagine laughing at a movie or a column in the newspaper or your sister's jokes, and having this guy give a little half smile and a puzzled look that says, "I have no idea why you're chuckling?" That's probably the worst quality I could think of in a man, aside from the guy directly above this whose spelling of the word "reality" is so far off, it looks like it's written in some undecipherable Eastern European language.

Okay, last one for tonight. Here's a lawyer who has "about 8 kids."

About? As in, I have six kids with two (or three) different women, but I ran into another couple of girls who had kids nine months after I quit seeing them, so it's possible I have eight, or is it nine? I can't keep track. I only pay child support for two, but whatever.

"I have several aliases (each with its own criminal record)."

He's trying to be funny. I get that. But what if he's saying these outrageous things, and he really means them? We're sitting over here saying, "Oh, how clever. Ha ha ha," when really, he's a criminal with a million illegitimate kids.

"I think Shawshank Redemption was 'just ok.'"

Forget the herd of children, the unlawfulness and the whole Jason Bourne plethora of passports thing. How can he not like this movie? What's wrong with him? There's a lot I can put up with, but being ho-hum about Shawshank just isn't one of them.

Until next time,

The Grammar Nazi

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 9: Women are crazy. Men are stupid.




















Hey, I didn't say it. Roger did. I think he's right though, generally speaking. It's a wonder any couple ever gets together, stays together and remains happy. But we all keep trying, don't we? Suckers, the lot of us.

This sucker is reading about a digital designer in Torrance who doesn't "care so much about your past but rather how much [he] can trust you." Also, he prefers "no size queens."

*Choke.* Did he really just say that?

He follows that with, "I find it kinda hard to describe myself..."

I think you just did a good job of revealing a tiny, personal tidbit about yourself already, mister. You probably should have saved that special detail for a much later date, but there it is, all laid out on the slab for everyone to see - with a magnifying glass.

"I don't fool around."

Not surprising.

Okay, sorry. I'll stop.

Next, we have a couple of men who fall into the "way too soon to be here" category. My heart goes out to them. (I do too have a heart.) I think they should wait to date for awhile. What do you think?

"I am separated from my wife with an unclear future."

Notice he said separated, not divorced. This is a red flag to anyone who doesn't want to wear that special "rebound girl" label. I can just imagine what would happen after a few dates. The girl starts to open up, get comfortable with him and WHAM, he hits her with this: "My wife and I have decided to try to work things out for the kids." Ouch.

"I was asked to leave my home for something that makes sense. Five people cannot live in a two-bedroom townhouse."

Okay, I'm confused. This guy is a surgeon, so I think he can afford a bigger house, and I doubt his wife asked him to head for the hills because there just wasn't enough room for him at the kitchen table. So what's the deal? What did he do wrong, or what kind of crazy (see headline) b*tch is she? Sadly,
I won't be sticking around long enough to find out the, no doubt, extensive back-story here.

The next rebounder i
s "recently divorced and [hasn't] dated in a very long time. I'm not anxious to get back into anything serious any time soon. I just want to go out and have a good time with some lovely ladies in my area."

He wants you to sleep with him to make him feel temporarily better about his dissolved marriage. That's okay if that's what you want, but if you want a boyfriend, run. Run far. Run quickly. This guy ain't ready yet. Set the timer for six to nine months. Poke him with a toothpick at that time to make sure he's not still raw inside. Hang in there, man. It gets better. Sort of. Okay, maybe not "better," but "different."

Next, Rico Suave wants someone who used to be a total whore, but is now ready to settle down, but not be boring. She should still be a total whore with just him. Here's what I mean:

"You were probably a playa in your day? so you know a thing or two by now. and you're NOT conservative or naive...but you're not a player anymore either...you might even be a lil' perv sometimes?"

See?

"you may even want to settle down? but not in a "stuffy" or "settling" way! right?"

Does settling down have to be equated with lame and boring? I don't think so, but I don't really know if I like the term "settling down" anyway, since it just makes life sound "over." I'm not sure if Mr. Suave is going to find what he's looking for exactly, but I wish him luck.

It's class clown time. This self-proclaimed child who doesn't want to grow up said he wrote some things about himself, but then thought they sounded too "shredded wheat." His words were lacking in the "frosty" department.

I wasn't allowed to have sugar cereals at home when I was a kid, so shredded wheat sounds peachy to me. But after reading what else he has to say, I think a day with Mr. Faux Hawk would be more Fruit Loops than Cheerios.

"I watch what I eat, exercise, and get enough sleep, but only so I can let my 'inner fat kid' run things from time to time."

Is that why you're holding a cake box in your photo? He's one of those rail thin freaks who can eat whatever he wants and not gain a pound, isn't he? I hate those people. I bet he'd set up camp in Willy Wonka's factory if we'd let him. Although, he has other interests:

"I am passionate about mountain biking, unicycling, working out, going to concerts, playing music, scrapbooking, dressing up and going out..."

Sing it with me. Which one of these kids is doing his own thing? Come on, can you tell which one? Scrapbooking? Somehow I don't picture the guy in the pink shirt and leather black tie gluing photos and glitter into a book. Call me crazy. Oh right, "women are crazy." I almost forgot.

Night,

The Grammar Nazi

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 8: Please No Drama Queens!




















Most of the profiles on chemistry.com expressly prohibit contact with any drama queens. For once, I am in complete agreement, and something these men say makes sense. Nobody likes a drama queen.

What doesn't make sense, however, is what Ralph says: "I won't make advances towards a woman no matter how attracted I am...I have girl friends but we respect each others space."

Level with me, Ralph. Have you ever kissed a girl on the mouth who wasn't your mother? Have you ever been on a date before? How do two people ever get together if no one makes a move? I'm guessing you can find this guy at a Star Trek convention, a comic book store or playing World of Warcraft in the privacy of his own home with a bevy of other online geeks on any given day. Poor Ralph. Hopefully someday he can scratch "hold hands with a female" off his bucket list.

It's a day of firsts on this lovely dating site because Jacob here "just recently bought [his] first microwave..."

Whoa, back up, June Cleaver. I'm still having trouble figuring out how I got through college without an email address, and Mr. 1950s Homemaker made it to 2009 without a microwave? Stunning. I don't know how anyone could survive without a microwave nowadays. What does he use to cook his food in? An oven? Sheesh. I bet he'd like to borrow my grandma's antique butter-churner. I'd also bet he uses a washboard to clean his clothes and saddles up a Clydesdale to get to work on the 405. Don't worry. Jacob will buy his first CD in ten years after he finally removes that 8-track player from his Pinto. Although, you might have trouble reaching him since he has a rotary-dial phone with a cord and no answering machine. It must be tough being Amish. Hit me up during Rumspringa, buddy.

I found a pair who would get along famously, if only we could match them up. Rod says, "I'm a foodie who likes to dine out and try different foods." Frank says, "Foodies beware. I am not."

What's curious to me isn't the fact that these two are complete opposites when it comes to their epicureal interests, or lack thereof. It's not that Rod likes caviar and creme brulee and Frank digs hot dogs and Cheez-Its. No, that's not what's fascinating. What's remarkable is that they both used the word "foodie" in their profiles. How random! And what is this "beware" threat? If you like gourmet meals, I'm going to smother you with a pillow in your sleep? I can only imagine what he'd do if he ever got his hands on Rachel Ray. Although, he might give her a break because of her professional affiliation with Dunkin Donuts. (As well he should. Have you ever had their coffee? It makes Starbucks' look like mud. Eng plug.)

Oscar considers himself "mildly sane" and "can wash the dishes better than you."

I doubt that, for am I am a dishwashing master. But let's go back to that "mildly sane" reference. From the looks of Oscar's photo, he seems like a relatively average guy. He's smiling. He dresses well. He's doesn't have any visible facial scars or other war injuries. Normal, right? Apparently not so, which makes me wonder about all the other guys who claim to be the "nice" ones, but look like the Unibomber's extended family. My trust issues are mounting being on this website; I don't think it's good for my mental health. By the time I've perused my last profile, I will be "mildly sane" too. Then maybe I'll consider dating Oscar. Until then...

There's always Bob. He "loves beer, bbq, and things that go fast."

From the looks of his photo, he loves beer most. He's holding a pint in front of his hammered, bug-eyed face. Vroom Vroom.

I'm trying not to nitpick about the bad grammar today, but I just can't pass this one up. The next unsuspecting butt of my jokes considers himself a "good person (a relax one)."

I'm a relax person too, one who considers herself excite, yet sometimes depress. ADD AN ED TO YOUR ADJECTIVE, FOOL. Okay, I feel better.

Here's another one, an entrepeneur who is "not for woossy's." He "dares you to try."

I dare you to try to stop me from beating my head against a stucco wall because of the misspelling of "woossy," and the apostrophe s on top of that. Come on, people. Really?

Our final entry today, boys and girls, is a man who "grew up with cats and birds." He says, "Hello, I am me" in his tag line.

Hello, Me! I am You. Wait. No, that's not right. It's also not right to grow up with cats and birds in the same house. (I just had a useless trivia moment: "Dogs and Cats living together!" Name that film. These guys are rubbing off on me.) Anyway, I wonder if any of those kitties ever pounced on any of those parakeets and finches in Darryl's house. That would be quite traumatizing for a kid. Now, if he grew up with monkeys and ferrets that would be cool. As it stands, I bet his mom is now a crazy animal hoarder whose house will be roped off as a result of an inordinate amount of animal feces, and the apple doesn't fall far from the perch, so I'm out.

Later,

The Grammar Nazi

Monday, August 3, 2009

Chemistry.com Part 7: Creepy is as Creepy Does













It's creepy day on chemistry.com. Let's decide which man is the creepiest, shall we?

Here's one: "Pry me open, read me thoroughly...I am a very thick book waiting to be read cover to cover...IF you skip to the end, you'll miss the juicy details. (Tickleprods is the name and its the mail thats hot.)"

Okay, I am going to attempt to decipher what the hell just happened, while simultaneously dealing with crawling skin. "Pry me open" only leads me to imagine an unsanitary, messy surgical procedure involving scalpels, organs and blood. "Thick book" seems to denote the boy has some demons to work through, and judging from the slimeball photos, I don't really want to know any "juicy details."

With the first parenthesis, he totally lost me. What the hell is TICKLEPRODS and why is this man still walking the streets all willy nilly and free? "The mail is hot"? Huh? Is he referring to his hotmail email account? I have no idea. Let's just move on to Creepy Guy #2.

Mr. Tickleprod would no doubt be interested in the burgeoning career of the adult film producer on the next page. Instead of telling us anything about himself, other than his dubious profession, this man rants about how an online personal ad doesn't match him with relevant people.

Well, not if you bitch the whole time, jackhole. (Again, I see the irony in my words.) You only wrote a short paragraph and didn't tell us anything about yourself. Not that I'd hit up a porn producer anyway. Not in a million years. Especially after this headline:

"You be six and I be nine."

That's the most classless thing I've read so far. In fact, I am going to go out on a limb and dub this guy the winner of the Ultimate Creep on Chemistry.com Award. It's an early decision, but I'm confident nothing else will compare. That won't stop me from looking for more, of course.

(The sad thing is that now I'm HOPING to find the weirdos instead of the decent, attractive men. My whole reason for being on the site in the first place has been trumped by the possibility of finding freaks to bag on. When I opened this profile, it felt like I'd been panning for gold and found a two pound nugget.)

But let's not stop with him. Ultimate Creep Runner-up has to go to the guy who holds a beer in his photo and posts this tag line: "You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how."

True.

BUT, my skin is crawling yet again looking at this freelancer's photos. The last thing I want in my head is an image of him kissing me, and often. Gag.

"Imagine the shyest nerd you know in the body of a tall, tattooed biker type."

Oh baby. Oh baby. Oh baby. Dinner has now risen to my throat.

This next little gem makes me laugh though:

"Via film criticism I've come to be known as sort of a journalist..."

What's a "sort of" journalist? Hey, I'm a "sort of" former piano player; I "sort of" used to be a ballet dancer, and I "sort of" speak and read French, but I'm not an expert by any stretch of the imagination. "Sort of" journalist makes it sound like he's "sort of" not employable. But, as usual, it gets worse because he's also...

"an actor in culty and horror movies..."

Culty? I bet if this guy got together with the porn producer, they could make "sort of culty sex flicks." We need to arrange a meeting of minds and watch the creative magic find its way to homemade DVDs that get sold out of the back of someone's van. Let's make it happen. I'll have my people call his people, and they can call the other guy's people and blammo! See you at the Independent Spirit Awards.

"I'll do anything in front of a camera."

I rest my case.

Okay, here's my new favorite. (Did I already pick one before? Well, I lied.) "Loving, Fierce Man with Glasses" is the headline. The photo is a headshot of a guy with greasy hair; his blue eyes stare right through you, and he's not wearing any glasses.

Why is he a man with glasses when there are no glasses present? That makes no sense. Misrepresentation! Maybe it should have read, "Loving, Fierce Man with Contacts." I helped a brother out though and drew some glasses on his face. There. That's better. (The piercing stare is why he falls into the "creepy" category, by the way.)

The next guy is a teacher and, clearly, a poet of the highest caliber. "The sweetness of life is ours to unveil."

The food that had risen to my throat is now in my mouth. Yack-o-licious.

"Observing how my reflection in the eyes of my nieces calls me to my highest self."

Is this guy for real? Quick! Hand me that trashcan over there.

"Someone whose attention when combined with my own creates miraculous reverberations which sow the seeds of a life overflowing with the highest possibilities to heal the broken paradise we call home."

Wordy much? To quote David Cross again, this romance god "took the hyperbole pills."I haven't barfed this much since I had one too many margaritas in Laguna and left my mark on PCH. What does he teach, I wonder. Ten Days to a Cheesier You?

Excuse me. I have to go brush my teeth.

Faithfully yours,

The Grammar Nazi