Show me yours...

A few years ago I decided to try out a singles site or two. At first I didn't bother with a picture, I was more interested in hunting down some guys who were witty in their profiles and hopefully a few hotties if I was lucky. Both in one would have been excellent.

As in real life, I prefer to be the conquistadora. Men who chase me are very rarely allowed to fell the prey. Overeager puppiness is a turnoff for me. Fawning? Egad. You can imagine how well one guy named Mr. Nice Guy fared with me. He was going on and on about how sensitive he is, how he really IS a nice guy. He'd send me IMs with those faggoty little sideways rose icons. Mr. Door Mat? Put your thumb in your mouth and blow really hard, maybe your testicles will pop back out and you'll realize being a pussy ain't getting you any!

I put my picture up and my 'views' and requests were astronomical. It was a good picture and when I peeped out my competition, it was obvious why I was a hit.

I couldn't keep up with the IMs from the site. I'd try to answer one and 13 more would be popping up. I'd have these little windows everywhere and men (and women) getting pissed off because I didn't answer right away. I have this problem of not wanting to be mean to people (well, except retards and cripples and anyone else who can't run fast enough to hit me).

I stopped visiting the site and shut off ability for requests to be sent to my email.

One day months or a year later, I'm working from home. Working from home is not good for me - I tend to take frequent breaks with my Rabbit, visit pron sites and eat in between. One day they'll find me dead in some scene from Seven - obese, naked, a Rabbit up my hole and pizza boxes piled to the ceiling but that's a different posting. Back to the story... I decide to check out the site. A guy named John, whom I'd turned down a gazillion times, was on. In a fit of 'Jeebus, will this guy never take no for an answer?' I'd met him once at a bar mid day. He was stylin' - wearing khakis (pleaty front), a white turtleneck with a light blue oxford over top complete with the fag tag in the back. He'd obviously had his 3rd grade class pictures that morning.

He was nice but not attractive and too fashionably conservative. Naturally, he thought I was the bomb diggity. I need to learn to embrace the Bitchiness. He called and emailed but I eventually lost that cell phone and him.

So this day months later, he's there. We chat. I decide to torture him and tell him I've been Bunnytizing all day. He's telling me he's hard. I'm laughing picturing this overgrown 8 year old in a turtleneck and wood. He wants me to take a picture. I ask him to send me one of his hard cock. Sucker. He does. An aerial view of the Monument to Dog Girl. Bad angle. I tell him I need a side shot, to gauge his alleged endowment. He sends. I don't send him anything and sign off.

I'm at this breakfast of HR directors last Thursday morning. I'm not one but it's a good group for my business. They always have a speaker and they are often engaging however, not being in the actual HR world, I tend to drift after a while - foot bouncing or leg shaking the whole time. I am casually eyeing the room when I look at the guy sitting 5 feet from me. I can't figure out why he looks familiar. Yes, you've figured it out already. Dressed in - khakis (pleaty type), and a plaid shirt. Glad to see he'd progressed from 3rd grade picture day to fraternity picture day.

Lesson: Don't send pictures of your genitals to people in your geographical area. Save that for your blog.