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.
The Grammar Nazi