Seeking PSSS-BM w/OGM-HKD
I start to write, “SDF seeking NG (nice guy) who….” and then my hand cramps.
I’m tempted to send out signals to someone who is embodies the
complete opposite of the men I’ve been attracted to (and married) in the
past. That would mean I’d be looking for
a poor, stupid, short, stocky, blind man with an organ-grinding monkey, who
hates kids and dogs. Not that there’s
anything wrong with blind men.
How would that read?
SDF seeking PSSS-BM w/OGM-HKD.
My criteria has seriously changed over the years. I might be seeking someone to be my Euchre partner who likes quiet nights AND who goes where he belongs at night (or when I’m tired, which ever happens first). When I say the evening is over, you gotta get up outta here.
It’s been 31 years since I went on a first date. Back then, I was looking for someone who sparked my interest. Now, my pilot light is so dim now—a spark might incinerate me! It’s funny what ceases to be important and what ultimately is. How about a little gentlemanly romance, companionship, things in common, talking about the 80s music and how awesome it was.
Those things matter much more than how cute his butt
looks in Levi’s.
Although, it never hurts to have a cute butt. What am I saying? My butt is at the back of my knees.
What cracked me up was an interaction with a nice, older
guy my friend set me up with recently.
We were getting to know each other via phone calls and texting. One night, he texted me and asked, “What are
you wearing?”
Hmm, should I play along?
“Crotch-less, leather teddy with nipple clips and safety
word.”
Should I be honest?
“Humungous pajama pants with holes and a tank top with a faded
daisy on it.”
Or should I be coy,
“What do you mean?”
Man, you have to do better than that if you want me to be
intrigued –I’m not some 19-year-old you’re luring into your dorm room. Your question propels us into a whole new
venue, one of attraction and lust. I’m
not ready for that room. I’m still in
the waiting room, reading a “Popular Science” magazine.
A favorite line from a mediocre movie “East of Eden” was
when Rosie O’Donnell’s character responded to a man who asks how he may please
her. She said, “Go paint my house.”
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