shenae.com

Here are some quality selections from my dating website emails.  Did you notice each of them is just one line long?

I’m looking for sexual foreplay and massage. Is that what ur looking for?

hiiiiiiiii

Do you date older men? I’d love to hear from you,

I need my floride, and that would be Y O U! I love you

This is the best one by far.  How could one IM session piss a girl off so much?  Read on, and by the by, my thoughts are in italics…

Shenae:  Hi
*** Waiting for Douchebag to connect
*** Douchebag’s IC window is open
Douchebag:  hi
Shenae:  I just emailed you and then i saw that you were online
Douchebag:  yeah, ijust read it thanks
Douchebag:  no, you shouldnt be worried, i am harmless
Shenae:  lol (edited)
Douchebag:  for sure
Douchebag:  you seem to have a great body (is that a compliment?)
Douchebag:  do yo hav emore pics>? (I should have logged off here, plus he can’t type)
Shenae:  well thank you
Shenae:  just pics of me in clothes (hint hint, perv)
Douchebag:  ok
Shenae:  were you looking for a specific kind of pic?
Douchebag:  not really…i just think you have  a hot body from what i can see in your pics (alert, alert, he said it again, code red)
Shenae:  well thank you again
Douchebag:  what r u doign home tonight? (is this lol catz or can this mofo just not type?)
Shenae:  you are definitely easy on the eyes
Shenae:  i am relaxing
Shenae:  i have to work tomorrow afternoon
Shenae:  what are you doing?
Douchebag:  thanks honey
Douchebag:  not much, ijust got got home
Shenae:  what do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?
Douchebag:  work for a ****  (edited)
Douchebag:  and you
Shenae:  at a **** (edited)
Shenae:  and i work **** (edited)
Douchebag:  sounds nice
Shenae:  errr, it’s tough
Shenae:  i work at night most of the time
Douchebag:  what r u looking for on this site (what the…)
Shenae:  a relationship
Shenae:  and you?
Douchebag:  having fun, hooking up
Shenae:  ah okay (shut ‘er down, he’s a flake)
Shenae:  well it was nice chatting with you
Douchebag:  likewise
*** Douchebag’s IC window is closed

Online dating is oodles of fun.  If you could see my face, there would be a huge fucking smirk on it.

Drew Peterson is engaged.  No, I didn’t stutter, he’s engaged to some 23 year-old idiot. How the fuck does this ugly, fat, manipulative psychopath go on dates, let alone have a relationship, meanwhile I’m single?  It does not make sense. Do I have to stab someone to get a date?  Someone up there is having a joke with us.

courtesy of oprah.com

I needed a few weeks to cool off after watching the Oprah show about couples in sex therapy.  That show just ruined me.  Actually, it was the married couples who made me sick.  Why get married if you are going to withhold sex?   Then the women complain about not feeling attractive or sexy.  I’m sorry, did you find one man who loved you enough to marry you and still want to have sex with you after you let yourself go?  Don’t blame the kids, the stress, or the pregnancies. You let yourself go.  It pisses me off that I’m a habitual single woman, with a body most women would pay good money for, yet I can’t get a date.  But when I find that special someone, I would try to make up for lost time.  I would do things like swing from a chandelier, have sex in an elevator and not leave the bedroom for an entire weekend.  These women made me physically sick because they don’t know how lucky they are, and again, take their relationships, their husbands, and that entire tray of brownies for granted.

5:30am Go to bed

11:16am Awoke from a pleasant sleep by the loudest construction workers I have ever heard.  Were they digging a tunnel to Australia?

12:00pm Go back to sleep, barely.

1:30pm Wake up

2:30pm Go to grocery store.

4:00pm Make hot dogs for a quick lunch

4:30pm Do one load of laundry

5:00pm Make dough for pizza.  Check emails.

6:30pm Eat entire pizza.  Freeze the other dough rounds.

7:20pm Leave for work.

8:00pm Clock in for work.

11:30pm Wonder why I’m here if there is no late room service. Ugh.

1:00am Realize none of my friends are online at Facebook, MySpace or IM *sighs*

1:30am Orders food and waits.

2:58am Gets food delivery…finally.  Anihilates burger and fries, proclaiming the effects of the “Michael Phelps Diet.”

3:44am Realizes there are only 15 more minutes until I go home.

4:00am Clocks out and walks home.