So I’m on this dating site right, and I find this girl I have a high percentage match with. I notice she’s online and she just “faved” my profile (meaning she saved it as a favorite). Since you can chat real-time with anyone on the site, I sent her a chat request thanking her for faving me, and that it was good to be loved. She accepted the chat and wrote back, “You’re welcome, and yes it is good to be loved!”

Yay! Finally a nibble!

“So, how was your day–”

She closed her chat window.

What… OK, maybe she made a mistake, so I send her another chat request. No response. I try to send her email but I’m blocked from doing so.

The hell?

You know what, I’m getting mighty motherf*&^ing tired of these motherf*&^ing rude unhinged bitches and their motherf*&^ing bullsh*% mind games.

Great, see what these evil women made me do? Now I have to go repent.

There are like 2 million people on this site and maybe 10 of them match me at higher than 80 percent. You’d think they might appreciate someone who obviously shares the same interests and beliefs they do, especially when such traits are uncommon to begin with, but nope. Obviously camaraderie doesn’t mean bat guano to them. Emails either get ignored altogether, or they’re initially friendly, and then it’s like their inner evil bitchiness comes out and they feel they just HAVE to play these stupid games with me.

That’s not even the half of it either, then you got them laying down what amounts to a World War II minefield of absolutely bat-sh*& crazy criteria that you must, absolutely MUST pass before you even have a prayer of a chance to be a blip on their radar.

Like say, the way you write your subject line in an email. One girl was going off on how she won’t even respond to anyone who writes “Hey” in the subject line, finding it to be too informal and annoying.

You could be a billionaire model who poses for GQ magazine, but if you write “Hey!” then it’s out with you, big boy.

I’m telling you, I can almost hear Rod Serling in the background while I tear out my hair in a fit of near insanity as I try to navigate these fricking minefields, petrified that one stray word or move will end up blowing yet another chance for me to be with someone.

Is it really supposed to be THIS hard?

To cap it off, the “Christian” penpal I was chatting with the other day goes dead ass cold on me. No response to email, chat requests, nothing, even though she’s on the site like a hundred times a day.

You know, I used to think I was being rather picky, with a high set of standards that I felt at times were maybe a bit unreasonable, believing when it came to accepting people’s flaws and blemishes, women certainly held the higher ground here than I did.

Good Lord what kind of crack was I smoking?

I am Disneyland compared to the Fort Knox these women have made themselves out to be, (the difference between them and the real Fort Knox being that the real fort actually has something valuable in it, whereas these women offer nothing of value whatsoever may they all rot in hell evil spawns of satanic demon dogs that they be.)

I’m not bitter though. No really. I have learned to accept my singlehood with a quiet sense of dignity and grace, understanding now that my loneliness will only be truly cured when I finally learn to take advantage of one of the greatest blessings and inventions science could ever bestow upon man: whiskey.

To the @#$% a-hole neighbor who lit up a few window rattling rockets at 2AM in the morning:

Ok, I get that there’s a certain appeal to lighting up the sky with illegal fireworks you bought from 3 states away. I get that because everyone else does it, you just have to do it too.

But you know, some of us actually work for a living, and we kinda need our beauty sleep so we don’t end up waking up the next morning in a completely violent mood, along with the compulsive urge to, oh, I don’t know, break down your door and start jamming lit sparklers up your stupid inconsiderate buzzoonies.

Think about it.

Today’s blogosphere consists of a huge network of blogs linked together a variety of ways, most commonly via blogrolls or with the use of linkbacks. Normally, in order to fully assimilate and become a part of this blogging collective, you would need to surf a considerable number of blogs and regularly comment on the latest postings, either via their commenting system, or by blogging a post on your own site and referencing the material in question there (which is where linkbacks usually come in).

I rarely do this, which is part of the reason why my traffic is usually so low. Because I’m not putting myself out there, my visitors usually come in via Google or by word of mouth. But if I’m interested in getting more hits to my blog, why don’t I invest the time necessary to give it more exposure by participating more actively in the blogosphere community?

The truth is, gosh darn it, I just don’t like you people. Most of you are lewd, rude and appallingly crude. And you’re ugly. And you probably smell bad too.

Since I’m a loner in real life, that seems to have translated in some respects over to my blogging life as well. When I reflect on this, I realized part of it is because I just can’t stomach hanging out with people who are A) airheaded morons who have about as much common sense as a drunken Barbra Streisand or B) morally corrupt individuals who enjoy waking up in strange places after a night of inebriation and snorting up white powder. Then there’s the occasional C) self anointed intellectuals who use an inflated vocabulary to argue or discuss anything from politics to relationships, when half the time their fond use of lofty words used by only 2 percent of the population merely disguises the fact that they are just as much a bunch of dumbasses as the entire cast of contestants on The Bachelor.

Evidently though, just finding a circle of people who have a good head on their shoulders, follow a reasonable moral code, and refrain from talking like 80 year old law professors so they can show people just how diddly darned smart they are seems to be a tall order these days.

Oh well. I guess that’s the price I pay for being unique.