Worrying about money keeps me up at night. Blech. Yuck. Blah. Nothing is more pointless then ruining tomorrow worrying about today.

But it happens every time, without fail.

So yawn…. I’m sleepy and facing hour after hour of transplanting tomatoes, planting flowers and weeding… an acre. Good grief.

I’m knee deep in thistle when my phone buzzes against my chest and it’s another internet dating email. I haven’t deleted one profile purely to remind myself why it’s NOT a good idea to date strangers.

I fully embrace my finely tuned procrastination skills and today is no exception. I decided to take a break and came inside to check my email.

Only to find this little gem. lol… and by gem, I mean laughable example of self aggrandizing delusion. Maybe it’s Thomas? lol… He’s 36, and a veritable pervert, trolling for nothing more than sex with a ridiculous profile too tragic to publicize. Eww.

“Yo- Ok this is your final chance.. I mean,usually you would have to hit a pawn shop,or a titty bar to find a gentleman of my caliber and standing in this comunity.. And you have repeatedly let this slip away..”

Um. I’m torn. I’m sorely tempted to email him back to tell him to watch me do it again… but this almost requires more. What on earth makes some of these weirdos feel so compelled to chastise me for “letting them get away”? Sorry if I’m just not interested in dating the mayor of Crazytown.

As soon as you sign into these things, somewhere something pops up to let everyone know you’re online. Lovely. The creepers come flying at me with multiple chat boxes in minutes and I accidentally clicked on one. Up pops his nether regions and a message that says…

D- Wanna bang?

Good grief and yuck. No I do not. Ever. In fact I may take a break from sewing the diaper covers I’m working on to go shower. These internet weirdos make you feel dirty WITHOUT even meeting them.

What happens in their lives to make them this way? What is it with men? I swear- my tolerance for douche baggery has officially worn out and I could not be less interested in dating these losers if I were a lesbian.

It only got worse. As I was typing a rather scathing retort to douche bag number 1, two more emails came in.

Apparently someone left the gate open at Asshat Farm this morning, because this guy spent some serious time ranting at me. First two emails from him, one right after the other. Brace yourselves… this guy is going to be on the receiving end of my stress. He asked for it. Look.

W- Hi! Ok right to the point you are. Never seen a profile like yours before. Am I that guy! Are you that GIRL! lol. I thought all you women looked at the pretty flowers and decided who your partner is going to be. About 90% of you women don’t study and do your homework. You all end up picking Canadian Thistle or Knap weed, both have pretty purple flowers but a pain in the butt in the garden! You know what we all have in commen? We are all made of energy, energy attracts same energy. This day and age we want the person to be the right height, right looks, right hair, right eyes, right age! Do you think that energy cares about all that? That is the reason why our society is all screwed up by magazines, TV, and Media. We are programmed to think that we have to have physical perfection and not energy perfection, so do you think your THAT GIRL? You’ll probably be like the rest and say what a jerk I am because I am to straight forward. I can say by looking at your profile and reading what little you have to say and being pissed off, I would bet 10 to 1 odds that you have no clue yourself because all the pretty boys your after run from you, huh? I am older but I have been around the block more then once, you think you can look at me from your energy and heart that we could have the same energy? If not and your eyes have been programmed to only look at the pretty purple flowers, I have to say good luck. If your heart is big, give me a message and lets chat. Woody

W- Oh the other thing! I would never take you out on a date! I would take you to a movie where you can’t ask me about half a billion questions. Maybe fishing, you start talking, I would say shhhhhh your scaring the fish! If you say coffee, I would only laugh because that is a BS way to meet, it is a hit and run tactic. Chew on that and really see if you know what a real man is? Woody

Let me get this straight. All women want pretty flowers and are attracted to knapweed? Just for arguments sake, this is what knapweed looks like:

Um… perhaps it’s just me and my trillion flowers in my big ol’ garden… but I don’t find it pretty- not to mention it’s a noxious weed and hurts like hell if you pull it with bare hands. At any rate… don’t even get me started on thistle, which I combat in my garden every day. Yeah… give me the nasty impossible to kill weed that leaves me with feet full of tiny slivers each year. I want that one.

But… considering the men I’ve dated, perhaps I have been picking weeds over flowers. He may have a point there. Frankly- my favorite flowers have to be flown in, I’m damn high maintenance in that regard. This man is NOWHERE near the tuberose I love so much. He’s more like runty little dandelion that keeps getting choked out by the knapweed.

To make things worse… he’s a Raiders fan. I couldn’t date a Raiders fan if he were a walking sweettalking Adonis. No. I’m a football girl and I hate the Raiders. Yuck. No. I will never understand how these idiots think that insulting a woman or denigrating her character or immediately assuming she’s a stuck up bitch purely because she’s not interested, is ever going to work.

Which is when I get to the line that says it all.

“You’ll probably be like the rest and say what a jerk I am because I am to straight forward.”

No, sir… I’m going to tell you a whole lot more than you want to know about yourself. Right after I mock you on the internet and call you out for the rude little asshole you are, bad taste in football even, ew. Get your man card out, I’m about to burn it.

Oy VEY. This is his everyday attempt? Seriously? He’s busy worrying about weeds and he should be learning how to be polite, or at least take the standard approach and start with less than a novel-long rant about the men that are outdoing him.

Lol… he’s willing to bet 10 to 1 odds that my favorite pretty boys run from me? Huh… I am unemployed and that’s a damn quick way to make some money. I have a right mind to take him up on that bet. What an amazing statement to make with the actual idea that it’s going to illicit a positive response. Someone should warn him he just barked up the very wrong tree. Perhaps my response will have him re-examining his approach. Probably not, but it’s worth a shot.

The second email just defies my ability to be nice. I must insult this man. It’s my duty. He’ll never take me on a date or he’ll take me to a movie or fishing to shut me up? Oh boy… what a gem. He’s right about the coffee though- that’s precisely why it’s a perfect first internet date. Less is ALWAYS more.

A real man… now that was the straw that broke the camels back. He’s not expecting this, that’s for sure.

Dear Woody,

Where do I even start… oh and you’re welcome, ahead of time. Ordinarily I wouldn’t bother responding when I’m not interested but for the good of all single womankind, I’m making an exception.

You seem to equate being rude with being straight forward, so please enjoy my “straight forward” response.

First and foremost, contacting someone for the first time with your mouth full of insults, preconceived notions and criticism will get you exactly what you deserve… the painful truth. I’ll happily take you up on that bet, and with 10-1 odds, maybe I’ll take a vacation with one of those “pretty boys” you’re so threatened by.

Better yet? I’ll buy a sexy little black dress that says “Raiders Suck”. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to post a picture so you can see what a smart woman looks like. I’ll take special joy watching my Chargers kick your ass this year. Can’t wait.

Men who post pictures of their children on their internet dating profile should be given a free shot of anti-freeze, IJS.

As for dating me? Not only would I not suffer through a cup of coffee with you, if you had the balls to shhhh me fishing? I’d throw your short fat ass off the boat and let you swim back to shore. It doesn’t look like you’d make it. I believe that’s the definition of famous last words. I don’t have a billion questions for you, but you’d need a handgun and chloroform to get me alone in a dark room, even a movie theater full of pretty boys.

As a matter of fact? I am THAT girl. I’m funny, sweet & thoughtful. I am an amazing girlfriend and a great mother.

Better than that? I’m a writer, and your lame, insulting and unsolicited bullshit has been blogged for a few hundred of my closest friends.

I’m the whole package, and you sir, are a douchebag. Go climb back under your rock before you end up drowning on your swim back to shore.

Oh and good luck to you too. Luck is all that could save you, in my opinion. Luck or a nice Russian mail-order bride catalog, a handgun or a successful abduction. I’d suggest you start by paying for it first.

I don’t think you’re a jerk for being straight forward- I think you’re a spineless weasely asshole who likes to belittle women. Being a jerk would be a huge improvement for you. Perhaps you should start with a little counseling and working on your relationship with your mother, because DUDE… this SCREAMS mommy issues.

Have a nice day!

J

Good Lord. I may die a born-again virgin.