Weird Dating Moments: You Can’t Buy My Washer and Dryer

6 Aug

I moved into a new house last month (just renting).

I LOVE not walking down 3 flights of stairs first thing in the morning so my dog can piss and shit in a teeny spot of grass in the parking lot while all the neighbors see me looking like a hot mess. After years of apartment building living, I’ll never take the presence of a front and back yard for granted.

What I don’t love about the new place? The absence of a washer and dryer.

I’ve never been without laundry appliances. My new place didn’t come with, so I’m forced to purchase them. I’m a bit leery of buying used appliances on Craigslist and still tapped out from the move, so I’m laundry appliance-less for the moment. (Otherwise known as, I’m making weekly trips to my parent’s house towing garbage bags full of dirty laundry). Even if I did find a decent washer and dryer on C-List, I have no idea how to get it here. None of my friends own a truck.

front loading washer and dryer

I knew it was too good to be true when a guy I dated with a few times mentioned he finally sold his house and was selling most of his appliances.

Immediately I ask, “You don’t happen to be trying to get rid of a washer and dryer?”

He answers, “Actually, I was planning to sell my washer and dryer to my friend _____ for $200, but I think he’s lost interest. They’re really nice front loaders. I don’t need them anymore.”

“I’ll give you the $200 for them,” I quickly interjected. “Let me know if he doesn’t want them because I’ll buy them. That would seriously help me out.”

Two weeks passed with no mention of the washer and dryer. I assumed he sold them to his friend as planned. Then, one evening during an innocent dinner he blurts out, “I sold my washer and dryer today.”

“I hate you,” I said (half-joking). Then again, I hadn’t planned on being the recipient anyhow. “Your friend decided he wanted them?”

“No. I re-listed them on Craigslist a few days ago for more money. Someone paid me $300 instead of $200.”

What the fuck face

No washer and dryer for you.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he dropped me off and stopped in to use my bathroom after dinner. He used the main bathroom – where the washer and dryer hookups are prominently displayed. Upon exit, he proclaimed, “Woah, you have a huge empty space in there for a washer and dryer!”

What. The. Fuck.

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Cleveland Dating Got the Best of Me

16 Jul

Warning: This is one of those rare, vulnerable posts that rarely emerge. But since the whole point of a dating blog is to share the ups and downs of dating – I figured I’d be honest and let my guard down for a moment.

They say breaking up is hard to do. And it is – especially when you get to do it over and over and over.

I think I usually put up a pretty good fight when it comes to dealing with my seemingly cursed dating life. I manage the lying, the betrayal, the cheating and the continuous disappearing acts the only way I know how – with sarcasm and derision.

I’ve been single for quite some time, but I can honestly say that this past year (starting from last July) has been the hardest and meanest I’ve ever encountered when it comes to dating and relationships. It’s been one relentless blow after another, and it finally knocked me on my ass like never before. I consider myself a fairly strong person, but in all honesty, I often wonder how much more I can take. Lately, dating in Cleveland is causing me to loathe humanity. And I don’t want to feel this way.

Placing your trust in someone, sharing a bed with them, indulging in lazy mornings under the covers, opening up and divulging some of your intimate secrets with the hopes of growing closer – only to have that person suddenly turn around and betray you (and simultaneously throw your secrets and fears back in your face for ultimate impact). I don’t care who you are – if you have a few shreds of emotion, it’s bound to wear on you.

Despite everything, I realize that all men aren’t as vile and heartless as the ones who have played a part in my life this past year. There are decent people out there. What I don’t know is how I continue to be mixed up with the rotten ones. I’ll admit that my lousy choices are partially to blame, but that doesn’t excuse their callous and abhorrent behavior. In my defense, things always seem so perfect in the beginning.

I’m not down because I loved and lost. I wasn’t in love with anyone this past year. Of course, I wanted to fall in love, but they didn’t exactly make it easy. I’m disheartened because I can’t fathom how people can treat others as if they’re completely disposable and replaceable. Online dating has made it easier than ever.

I took some time off dating. I moved to a new place. I wallowed in self-pity for a bit. I spent time with friends and family and tried to make peace with the disappointment. I recently went on a few dates with a guy I met a few months back, but he seemed to care more about getting laid then getting to know me. Story of my life.

For the past two weeks my parents have been asking when I was going to begin dating again. I kept insisting I wasn’t ready. (I think they just want grandkids, like really bad)

But I can’t continue to sit here, feel sorry for myself and dwell on my contempt for the shitty Cleveland dating scene. I haven’t felt like “me” lately and that’s because the art of basking in my breakups and romantic letdowns isn’t “me.” Hell, if I want to torture myself I figure I may as well do it during a nice dinner out.

I don’t want to date again, but it’s time. I’m not ready to date, but I’m definitely not prepared to give up. I deserve to have a kind-hearted and caring man in my life and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a few callous pieces of shit put any damper in my chance at finding happily ever after. Still, I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be treading a little more carefully this time around.

And that list of dating rules I developed a few months back (especially since they pertain to the infamous third date rule) – those remain since they will help me keep my sanity.

Dating after thirty is really fucking hard. Geez.

I’m Sorry: An Apology Letter to My Ex Boyfriend

24 Jun

Dear ex-boyfriend,

Since I have reason to believe you knew about my dating blog, I’d like to extend my deepest apologizes regarding the demise of our one and a half month relationship. Clearly our break-up was entirely my fault, so here goes:

I'm sorry

I’m sorry that you went off your meds. When you first mentioned that you’d been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds, I tried to be understanding.  But it’s obvious why a doctor prescribed them to you. You really need to take them. Like, seriously. You have crazy eyes.

I’m sorry about my ADD. While it pales in comparison to your dark and twisted mood swings, apparently it forced you to call a variety of your ex-girlfriends and other friends and family members for consultation on how you should “manage me.” I’m sorry that you’re the first person to EVER have an issue with my supposed inattentiveness. I’m sorry it gave you another fault to pick on.

I’m sorry that you couldn’t stop calling your ex-girlfriends, friends, colleagues, family members, your hair stylist, the cashier at Walgreens, the guy at the stop light next to you, etc. to analyze all faults you found with me bit by bit.

clueless like

Like, I’m seriously like not sorry.

I’m sorry I said the word “like” too much. That made you really mad, didn’t it?

I’m sorry being a slacker on changing my car oil led you to believe that I can’t “handle life management.” I’m also sorry that it forced you to ignore me and treat me like total shit for two days. An oil change. I believe you said something like, “How can you handle raising a child if you can’t remember to get your oil changed?” I don’t know – why don’t you ask every woman ever?

I’m sorry about that time I was ten minutes late. Although 8 minutes was due to being stuck by a slow-moving train on West 117th, I suppose I should have figured out a way to get around it. I mean, 10 minutes late! I’m surprised you only shunned me for (another) two days about that one. I can’t imagine how enraged you would’ve been if we actually had to be somewhere that night besides the couch at your condo.

I'm not sorry ex boyfriend letter

(Really, I”m not sorry)

I’m sorry about that time I was ten minutes late again. At least that time you sulked in your car and waited impatiently for me in the parking lot.

I’m sorry that I didn’t offer to pay for my half of dinner on date nights. Even though your salary was assumingly 4 times higher than mine, our once-a-week dinner dates to inexpensive restaurants must have put a serious strain on your finances. (And by the way, I was getting cash together for our ‘trip.’ I just wasn’t about to offer any to you until we actually embarked on our vacation. Come on, I knew we weren’t going to last.)

I’m sorry that I’m not a doctor or lawyer. You made it very clear that my career in marketing wasn’t good enough for you since I’d never earn enough money to make a strong ‘financial contribution to our relationship.’ I mean, what good is a SEO/marketing person to a man starting his own law practice? What benefits could I have possibly brought to the table on that?

I’m sorry about your mole problem. Seriously, what was with that? There had to be at least a thousand of them covering your body. And you really should’ve warned me that one time I thought I was playing with your nipple, that it wasn’t actually your nipple, but one of your grotesque moles. They were different colors too! Have you considered applying to the Guinness Book of World Records for your moles? Is that book even still around?

naked mole rat

I’m sorry that I didn’t laugh at your attempt at humor. You assumed that I wasn’t paying attention (oh, my ADD strikes again). I was. It’s just that the 10 one-liners you have in constant rotation weren’t funny the first time and they weren’t funny the fiftieth time. And quit it with the “over the pants handie” saying. It’s not funny. It’s creepy.

I’m sorry that you couldn’t stop discussing your ex-girlfriends. And all the talk about your sexual history with them? I promise I didn’t need to know every specific detail! Especially right before we were about to have sex. I can reenact precisely how a previous ex behaved in bed with you, yet I don’t even know a single one of their names. You never once said a name.

I’m sorry to tell you that your penis size isn’t average as you claim. The reason the condoms kept falling off wasn’t because my vagina is tight (but thanks for the compliment), but rather because the condoms were too roomy for your package. Maybe that’s why your ex-girlfriends never wanted to have sex with you? (Your words, not mine.)

I’m sorry that I spent too much time on my hair.

I’m sorry that I never knew why you were mad at me. Was I breathing too much? Was I looking in the wrong direction? Did I say “like” too much again? Sit on the wrong side of the couch? Take a minute too long in the bathroom? I never knew!

Not sorry

(I’m not sorry)

I’m sorry that time with me cut into the time you’d ordinarily spend trolling Facebook and baiting  almost- strangers with  attention-seeking posts. Was it necessary to create paragraph-long updates each time you did something for someone? Besides, why talk to me when you can stalk your ex-girlfriends or read posts by people you haven’t talked to in ten years discussing their recent trip to Target?

I’m sorry that you think I didn’t appreciate anything you did. I appreciated everything – however my gratitude was quickly overshadowed by your relentless criticism and the fact that you found fault in every single thing about me.

I’m sorry that I wasted a month and a half of my time with you.

Actually, come to think of it…. I’m not sorry for anything but that last one. You’re a pompous prick and I sincerely hope you choke on your next kale smoothie and vegan cous-cous plate.  Like, seriously you’re an asshole.

Best regards,

Summer

P.S. Are you sure you’re not gay? You’re awfully feminine and your shorts are too short.

Dating After 30: It Always Comes Back to This

24 Jun

I’m back after my two month hiatus. No, my small pause had nothing to do with my bad date meltdown.

Three reasons for my dating blogging hiatus:

1. I was dating a guy and didn’t want to write about him. He took up lots of my time. Because my goal is to make a relationship work, I figured not writing about the person I was currently dating (without his permission) was a good call. However, now that my ex turned psycho, all bets are off.

2. I was lacking energy. Turns out it was the melatonin. Now that I stopped popping melatonin, I feel totally normal again. Duh.

3. It’s summer and it’s hard to write in the summer. So much else to do. I needed a break.

But I’m back. And sadly, still dating in Cleveland. It is what it is – and there is nothing else to do but make the most of it. Eventually, I’ll find ‘the one.’ At least I hope.  Until then… it’s back to more weird misadventures with Cleveland men.

And on a good note, I made DatingAdvice.com’s list of 10 Best Single Dating Blogs.

Cleveland, Ohio Rock Hall of Fame

Bad Online Dates and Epic Meltdowns Courtesy of Match.com

16 Apr

When it comes to dating in Cleveland, one week can make a big difference. It rarely does, but anything can happen, right?

I was at a dating low point last Saturday night. It was a dark, dark place in my less than fulfilling  online dating saga.

First, my ex-boyfriend walked right past my car downtown while I was en route to meet a guy from Match.com. (THE ex-boyfriend. You know, the one ex boyfriend that pops up in your head whenever you hear a sappy Phil Collins break-up song. Thankfully, I don’t think he noticed me. I wish I didn’t notice him.

Reeling from my ex-boyfriend sighting, I set out to meet my Saturday night date. The moment I laid eyes on him, I wanted to run like hell out of the bar. Why I didn’t make a break for it, I’ll never know. The guy clearly had a knack for snapping deceptive photos. And he talked funny.

Not only did he look NOTHING like his photos, he was just so weird. He wouldn’t stop talking about the fact that he was ADHD. By being blessed with the inability to focus, this guy acted like he won the “I’m so awesome” jackpot. His pants didn’t fit. They were much too short – like horrifyingly too short.

Bad dates and too short pants

He wasn’t even a hipster….

You can blame the fact that you locked your keys in the car for the second time this week on ADHD. You can’t use it to justify that you are a socially awkward mess. Sorry buddy, it’s not ADHD, you are just really, really strange. Accept it.

Then he rambled on and on about weird history shit – I zoned out for the bulk of it, but he kept talking about some dude named Constantine and Christianity wars. (What the fuck??????) For a man who supposedly can’t focus, he could sure focus on some Christianity wars.

Oh, and apparently there was this former girlfriend who lied about him being the father of his child for a full year. Bitter? You better believe it. I heard about it for another 20 minutes or so before calling it a night.

Bad dating Maury Povich style

After two glasses of wine and some water, I retreated back to my car and headed home. (Mind you, two glasses of wine is the equivalent of drinking two glasses of water for my alcohol-loving self).

Note: I’m not proud of the following passage you’re about to read. An ex-boyfriend sighting and subsequent nightmare date is a recipe for an epic “Why Me?” meltdown. Sometimes you just need one. 

So, I’m making my way home down I-90 after this hell date and “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty comes on my iPod. You heard me right – “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty. The tune must have hit a chord (no pun intended.. ha) and I start sobbing. I’m talking heaving, awful, choking sobs. Endless sobbing. Once “Baker Street” finished, “I Can’t Tell You Why” by the Eagles started playing which only made it worse.  (My reaction to these songs further stresses the gravity of my sad, sad dating life). By the time I arrived home, my face was bright pink and caked in a mixture of black mascara and snot. I wasn’t even drunk. I was still crying and I wasn’t entirely sure why. Other than the fact that I was angry at my shitty dating luck.

Bawling my eyes out to “Baker Street” after a bad Saturday night date AND ex boyfriend encounter was not a high point (salt meet wound). Don’t judge – we all have our “Why Me?”  moments. Right? I do wish my bad dating meltdown occurred during a “cooler” song.  Where is Bon Iver when you need him?

Flash forward to my recent Saturday night date

I’m on a second date with a man I met two nights before.  Ever meet someone that you totally feel like you can be 100% yourself with right off the bat? Yeah, it was like that. I can totally say whatever and not feel like I’m freaking him out. Plus, he’s adorable, smart and ridiculously witty. I like this one. And I’m not forcing myself to like this one because he’s good on paper or convenient. I just do.

I know better than to jump the gun and get my hopes up. Still, I didn’t  drive home crying to “Magnet and Steel” by Walter Egan or anything….. so I think I’m on the right path.

Leveraging an Online Dating Success Story. Maybe. Sort Of.

4 Apr

Welcome to another installment of Stupid Shit Guys Do to (Hopefully) Get Sex

My recent date may have looked like Patrick Dempsey, but Mr. McDreamy he was not.

McDreamy Not

Return to Dating 101 – if a man repeatedly claims to to be a “hopeless romantic,” he’s not. McNotDreamy never missed an opportunity to inform me about his romantic tendencies.  According to him, he’s an “old-fashioned romantic” type of guy.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s thoroughly expressed on his online dating profile. (Ladies – if you see this in a profile. Never get your hopes up.)

I can repeatedly tell you that I’m Kim Kardashian. It doesn’t make it true.

Despite a lack of wine and roses, McNotDreamy had a riveting story that he liked to recount (over and over again)…. Once upon a time he knew a guy who recently encountered a bout of good dating luck on Match.com.

texts from match2

On top of excessively communicating his supposed romantic tendencies, NotMcDreamy really enjoyed repeating a story about his friend who recently found the woman of his dreams on Match.com. So much, that his buddy’s tale of online dating love came up in nearly every conversation. Whether it was via text, phone call or during dinner, he never failed to mention the fact that his friend fell in love with a girl from Match.com. Sometimes an “I can only hope to be so lucky” was added for good measure. The more he told the story, the more I got the feeling something was off.

text from match1

Take the online dating success story and combine it with the absence of romantic tendencies. Toss in his claim to be a huge dog lover with his refusal to pet or even acknowledge my dog… and it equals bull shit. Creative, yet ineffective bull shit.

I firmly believe he deserves a few points for originality. This is the first man who tried to crank up the charm with a non-stop reiteration of a friend’s online dating love story.

texts from match3

On the fourth (and final) date, McNotDreamy sat beside me on the couch and proceeded to text other women. He deliberately tilted the phone so I couldn’t see the screen when he’d receive the messages. Because that wasn’t obvious or anything… (And I could still see!)

Of course, the multiple females blowing up his phone didn’t stop him from trying to hump me.

I, on the other hand, did.

Single After Thirty: 15 Reasons it’s Not Totally Terrible

26 Mar

Single after 30? The internet is flooded with instructions to embrace your single status, how to love yourself and shitty advice imploring you to change your ways – or else. Fuck ‘em.

stupid mom quotes

Not funny. At all. Period.

Being single in your twenties was fun. Then, one day you wake up and realize everyone got hitched. The drunk party photos that once clogged your Facebook feed have been replaced by copious amounts of ultrasound pics and shares of “parenting humor” images.

You feel out of the loop. And you probably are. But that’s okay. Being single after 30  doesn’t mean you’re a social degenerate. I mean, have you seen some of the people who get married?! Some are certifiably crazy. Others are downright repulsive. But… they got lucky. And.. you haven’t been lucky yet. On that note, here’s a few reasons I found to quit bemoaning your single status (and mine too).

15 Reasons to Not Hate Being Single After Thirty

1. Can go out with my guy friends whenever. Plus, I can vacation with my guy friends. No questions asked.
2. Lounging on the sofa in my stained & tattered sweatpants, no bra and my hair in one giant knot – for as long as I choose.
3. Not required to shave every day. And never having to shave another’s back hair.
4. My friends are more fun. Plus, I don’t feel obligated to invite my guy along and try to fill him in on the inside jokes we’ve had for over 10 years.
5. I don’t have to attempt to hide the existence of this dating blog.
6. No boyfriend begging for a blow job when I’m on the heaviest day of my period.
7. I like hanging out with myself.
8. Not being woken up each time my guy gets out of bed to take a piss, drink water, etc. No worrying whether or not I was snoring. No snoring keeping me up.
9. Dating is providing plethora of writing material. More than I could have ever fathomed.
10. I’m not forced to listen to anyone else’s shitty music choices. (Seriously, how can the Goo Goo Dolls be your favorite band?)
11. Not sharing the couch. And not having to watch sports updates while sharing the couch.
12. No arguing over the thermostat setting.
13. No one tying up the bathroom taking a 30 minute shit when I need to do my hair, brush my teeth, etc.
14. Opportunity. Being single leaves you open to ANYTHING. You have the freedom to do whatever without the tether of another. Whether its traveling abroad, moving to LA to pursue a writing career or taking up sky-diving – you can do it. Besides, you never know when you’ll meet ‘the one.’ Better to be single when that happens than trapped in a sub-par relationship.
15. You’ve experienced a ton – so when the time comes to settle down you’ll be ready. Especially if you’ve dabbled in online dating – then you’ll REALLY be ready.

Curb Your Enthusiasm Dating Quote

Sure, I’d love to stumble upon a great guy, fall in love & share a life together. I can’t force it. I can only hope I’m fortunate enough to meet someone and live out the whole “happily ever after” ending. Until then – life as a thirty-something single isn’t too horrible. Besides, the grass is always greener on the other side.. until you get there.

Close Encounters of the Online Dating Kind

24 Mar

I’m having dinner with this guy – third date – and out of nowhere he asks, “Do you believe in aliens?”

I thought he was joking and was simply asking it to see if I was gullible or crazy (Anne Heche style). My answer, “I have trouble believing in anything that I haven’t seen, but considering that the universe is rather big… I guess no one can say for sure. Why? Do you?”

“Yes. I’ve seen them.” The conversation turned unnecessarily serious.

“What? Like you were abducted and anal probed?”

“No. But I’ve seen aliens twice.”

He proceeded to tell a story about spotting an extra-terrestrial being in a parked car. Apparently, Mr. Alien was chilling in the backseat, staring at him and wiggling one of his long, extra-terrestrial fingers in a come-hither motion. The other tale involved UFO’s hovering over his home.

What the fuck Match.com?

Are you fucking kidding me?

The worst part – this guy stopped returning my calls. (Third date rule strikes again?)

Alien fingers

Once upon a time, my old college roommate dated this guy who creeped everyone out. Turns out he was a paranoid schizophrenic. On top of believing that government agents broke into his apartment and injected him with the HIV virus and that his Buddha statue came to life after midnight….. he also reported to have close encounters with aliens. He was eventually forced into a mental hospital. He probably still resides there today.

Sex on the Third Date Rule: Time to Buck This Dating Trend

12 Mar

The third date rule – Is sex on the

third date expected?

(Yes. Fairly often. Seems to be the norm.)

If you use an online dating site, odds are that both you and your significant other from the site are dating multiple people. I’m certain the men I’m seeing are dating other women. It’s never been explicitly stated, but it would be naive to think otherwise. This is the reality of online dating.

This makes for lots of third dates. And tons of potential hook-ups.

Third-date-rule

It’s the third date….

I’ve never felt pressured to concede to the third date rule. Admittedly, I’ve had my share of alcohol-infused evenings that ended in bed (sooner than we should have), but sex on the third date never felt obligatory in my book. Some men have thought otherwise.

Sex doesn’t require a timeline. When things are right – they are right. The thing is, I no longer feel right sleeping with a man who is simultaneously dating other women (and possibly having sex with them).

Have I done it? Of course. More than I should. Sometimes I couldn’t help it (damn rum and rebound sex). Other times I’d try to convince myself that maybe he’s only sleeping with me (this was true at times). Or, I’d momentarily let my brain believe that our relationship could progress and become exclusive (even though I knew otherwise).

So, we sleep together and I pretend to ignore the texts from other women that he is trying to keep under wraps while at dinner. I don’t dare ask what’s happening on his “busy nights,” because I don’t want the real answer. And… we continue to sleep together. Some nights, he’ll send a “good night” text. Other nights he doesn’t return mine, probably because he isn’t alone. And… we continue to sleep together. Eventually we break up.

I’m over it.

No sex on the third date

I want a relationship (I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise, but it’s not happening). Casual sex isn’t fun anymore. Wanting to sleep with a man who is exclusively sleeping with me? This is NOT too much to ask. I’m not requesting his hand in marriage. I just want him to keep his penis out of other women’s vaginas if its currently being inserted into mine.

Match.com and other sites have transformed dating into an all-you-can hook-up buffet. Since buffets are a chock full of mold, bacteria and foul diseases, I prefer  that my future partner and I play it safe and stick to one item from the menu at a time.

online dating is a endless buffet of possible sex

On that note, I’ve decided that it’s time to buck this sex on the third date trend all together.

Summer’s New Sex & Dating Rules

1. No sex on or before the third date
2. No sex if I know the man is dating (or sleeping with) other women
3. No sex if I think the man is dating (or sleeping with) other women
4. If I don’t see a future with the man and he is seriously attractive, rules 1-3 need not apply (if it’s good for the goose…). Hey, I deserve an “out” if faced with an extended dry spell.

Simply stated – If you’re sleeping with me, I’d better be the only one you’re sleeping with. I don’t expect a man to profess his undying love for me. I don’t even need a “girlfriend” title, but I do require that he refrain from inserting his tongue or penis into a different vagina on nights spent apart.

On a side note, I’m preparing to be dumped A LOT over my new dating rules. More than usual. Considering the “lovely” men I’ve encountered lately, there’s a good chance that my new sex and dating rules will render me not fourth-dateable. And that’s okay.

Let’s see how this goes.

Horse_ebooks OkCupid Tumblr Reminds Me Why I’m Single

16 Feb

Online dating sites are stuffed with creepers, assholes, perverts and the like. Online dating is weird and disheartening, but it is great for a laugh.

Enter OKC_ebooks. A funny and pathetic look at revolting men on OkCupid. Seriously, this site is great.

horseebooks okcupid dating

A guy named Sam Kriss created a fake female OkCupid profile using a photo of an attractive girl. Like any female with two legs and two arms, the dating profile is bombarded with bizarre and perverse messages. But, this “girl” only responds to messages with quotes from the spam Twitter account @horse_ebooks. (The spammy account was made to tout shitty e-books, but avoids Twitter’s spam detection by sending out peculiar tweets that make absolutely no sense. And they are hilarious).

The @horse_ebooks quotes don’t deter the male daters. Psychotic-sounding or not, to these guys a bat-shit crazy vagina is still a vagina.

Although they aren’t talking to a real girl, do these men really think their tactics work? Are they total morons?

horseebooks okcupid

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