Tuesday, September 17, 2002
( 10:46 PM ) Rebecca
Last night, I made a foray into the online personals. And oh, quelle reward! A mere 24 hours later, I have 14 responses! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about, baby. Numbers!
A couple years ago, I ventured into the personals too. I met K., now one of my best friends. I met S., who fell madly in love with my friend R. (who also writes a mean blog) had twins with her, and then turned out to be Anger Boy.
And I met P., a short, insane rock climbing elf, partial to setting himself on fire, scaling buildings, and smoking pot, whom I dated for a rollicking two months until Loser ditched his ex-girlfriend for me (what goes around comes around, doesn’t it?).
I must mention, too, that despite being technologically-challenged, I actually took a photo of me and you-know-who, and, using Photoshop, cropped him out of it, and posted it in my ad! Now that felt good! You graphic designers are laughing at me, but figuring out how to crop a picture for me is akin to apes learning to bash each other’s heads in with rocks. I think I’m going to crop him out of all my pictures!
And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. A snippet from one of my responses. What you must know about the personals is that they are an orgy of cleverness; everyone trying to outdo each other with verbal shenanigans. To wit:
“So, how do you want the world to end? If you saw some variety of Transcendent White Light beckoning to you while you were getting your appendix out, what would keep you from joining it? What are you drinking now that summer's past and the g/ts are distant memories? What do you see when you close your eyes?”
Oy. I am so tired.
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