Blogging, Truth, Victory!, Whine/Rant

The Breeder

I’m an asshole sometimes, I totally admit it and I don’t even apologize for it anymore. I’ve been on the receiving end of it for so long it feels kind of nice to return the favor.

I’m hand picking the weirdos and I don’t feel bad about it. It’s funny, and I’d rather write a book about the horrors of internet dating than the book about the King of Douche Bagastan.

In choosing this date, I filtered through the emails clogging my inbox. Some of them are nice… which makes me a little tempted to date a normal one, but I just can’t resist the hilarity of picking the less fantastic options. I’m never nervous on a first date anymore, and when you go into it expecting it to be bad, mortifying or awkward? You can only be delighted when it happens.

This one wins.

Cakegurl, Funny,I hate text-ers! I am in construction so I think that is cool you do projects! I’m sure you would be a distraction. You sound like a hand full, …..But very interesting…..I just want to know where the nun outfit came in out of curiosity? I LOVE GOD!

Clearly the man doesn’t know that I would not be dating if I were a nun. I’m going to run with it. Why not?

I may as well take paper and a pen… because I’m cataloging details the moment I arrive at the restaurant.

I’m exhausted… I was up late drinking & dancing with the beautiful man I have a crush on. My eyelashes are still on from last night, so I throw a quick coat of mascara on, fresh lipstick, a sweatshirt and jeans.

My hair is a bit of an epic disaster at this point- so it’s in a ponytail. I hit my head on something the other night and it hurts to pull it up tightly… pig tails it is.

Can we say little to no effort? Eeek.

I picked him based on his religious preference. He’s one of those Quiverfull weirdos. Short version? They think of children as arrows in the quiver of your life… the more the merrier.

Uh… no. Not for me. I’m a big fan of tearing down the factory to build a playground. My days of gestating and lactating are over. I won’t be contributing further to the population.

This one is weird enough that it’s a coffee date…. mainly because I work tonight and I’m sleepy. A caramel macchiato with a side of zealot.

He walks in and I know immediately that he is being judgy. He shakes my hand and asks me if the drive was ok. I drove 5 minutes to his hour and ten… and I realize I told him I lived in the next city over. Shit… I’m too tired to be doing this today. I’d rather be curled up in my bed, in my jammies.

He asks me the usual questions. What do you do, how old are your kids, what kind of food do you eat and do you attend any religious services?

Oh I’m a nun, my kids are 4 & 6, I’m picky and don’t like anything and yes, I never miss a Sunday.


A text comes in on my phone and I grin and answer… sorry ya’ll but I’ll be damned if I let a weirdo cockblock.

Because he’s gone into religious zealot mode and is detailing his very broad view of family… he’s a huge fan of the Duggars. He thinks birth control is a sin.

I wouldn’t so much as let this guy near my toothbrush if I were fertile. He’s my absolute worst fear. He’s a breeder.


“Fearfully and wonderfully made” comes out of his mouth three times before I start to text back. Awww what. I’d rather flirt with the guy on my phone than the lunatic in front of me. I’m tired. My manners are shot… and I kind of hate men.

Not all men…. just the ones I’m attracted to.

“That’s a bad bruise, where did you get that?” He points to my chest, where there’s a thumbprint bruise. Uh… I realize I’m not really listening to him and he glares at the phone in my hands when I start laughing and send another text.

Ever the willing pain in the ass and with my phone blowing up every ten seconds, I run with it.

I’m spending more time texting than I am talking and he’s barely catching his breath. I keep expecting him to pull a pamphlet out of the briefcase he’s carrying.

Q- How do you feel about a large family?

J- I have one. Seven sisters and one brother.

Q- There are 13 in my family.

J- Wow, sisters, brothers?

Q- My youngest is 2.

Ohhh…. he’s talking about his children.

Wait a minute… hold the fucking phone.

J- 13 children? Holy moly… how many loaves a bread does it take to make sandwiches at your house?

Q- 2 or 3.

I was joking… he’s not.

J- I have two. I will always only have two.

Q- Interesting. It was nice having coffee with you.

At which point he got up, smiled… and left.

oooops…. but….

I played my asshole card and won, lol…

One down, 5 to go…. my gawd internet dating is so fun sometimes….