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."
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.
The Grammar Nazi