It’s only Monday and we already have pervert of the week!

Its the first time I’ve gotten an email that demanded instant blogging.

May I introduce…. Vern.


I like to ride my bike on long trips camping out along the way with a good woman with her on my bike or hers or even better ON me i like to cook but i am the only one that likes it sometimes i have big house in spakan with 3 BIG bedrooms you jus havent met the right 50 year old jus wait n see growl

I have to take a minute and say, once again, Thank God and All that is Holy that doesn’t give out your personal address. Seriously. I’d buy a gun tomorrow- and beg someone to teach me how to shoot it. Actually- I’d take Shawn’s advice and buy a shotgun that would definitely take this guy out.

His email is nearly a perfect description of hell on earth, for me.

1. Long trips on a bike… No. Never. I’ll happily kiss my husband goodbye and send him on his merry little way if that’s what he wants to do- but I’m past the point of doing shit I hate to impress the man I love.

2. Camping out along the way… I love to camp. Love it- but I’m a prepared camper. Just because you’re sleeping on the ground does not mean you have to suffer. Who likes to suffer? I want my kids to love camping, not dread it. I take air mattresses, down comforters… and my egyptian cotton sheets. To hell with anyone who would talk smack about my camping in comfort. Something tells me there’s not room for the sheets and air mattresses on the Harley. Not to mention- if you’re ass is stuck on the seat of a motorcycle all day long- shouldn’t you at least be able to look forward to a hotel room? Ugh- yuck.

3. Making a sexual reference in a first email is just nasty. Riding ON him? Suffice it to say- I’d become a man first…and we all know how likely that is. 3 BIG bedrooms… Yuck, gag, yuck. Shiver…

4.He likes to cook but sometimes he’s the only one that likes it… That’s so tempting. Especially for a girl who’s recently come to terms with a cooking fetish… No. I don’t ever want to be the only one in the relationship that can cook, ever again. I’ve officially been ruined for you Kraft Macaroni & Cheese boys. Thank Goodness.

5. The man is 59 years old… There are so many things wrong with him emailing me I don’t even know where to begin.

6. growl…. the man growled at me? Or is that his biker name? Does it really matter? lol

I couldn’t resist. 🙂


Generally I don’t take the time to write back to people who decide to boldly ignore what my profile states I’m looking for. But in your case, I decided to make an exception.

First and foremost- you’re nearly 60. I’m 33. It says you have children, and I’d be willing to bet they’re probably my age?  Making gross sexual references in your first email to a woman who could be your daughter’s age is disgusting- and you should really be ashamed of yourself. For both the perv-o email and the fact you can’t seem to capitalize, punctuate or spell the name of the city you live in.

Vern- go take a long hard look in the mirror… then at my picture. How often do you see that couple?

Bad form, Vern, seriously.


Fade to black…

The bartender smiles as we walk in and asks us: “Are you girls here for breakfast?”

Both of us giggle and say… “Nope… Beer.”

Which is a pretty surefire sign that we had way too much fun last night.

Drinking on an empty stomach with a dented ego is perhaps not the best idea I’ve ever had. Doing it in heels and a little black dress…. was fabulously fun.

We joked about it before we left.

J- I’m gonna get black out drunk tonight- don’t let me ride the bull in my dress.

K- Well wear panties anyway just in case I can’t stop you.

J- You’re funny.

To my horror, I realized when I woke up at 6:30 this morning…. that I’d succeeded. I haven’t the foggiest idea about the end of the night. None. Once those little pink and blue shots started showing up… it gets fuzzy… or… black. 🙂

I grabbed my phone… and OH FUCK, please no… Yep. Plain as day- there was his number in my dialed calls…. 2:32 AM… Great. I prayed I didn’t leave a message- and put my phone away…

So as we’re sitting at Connie’s- I confess my gigantic absence of judgment in drunk dialing him.

J- Worst case scenario- I left a message- right?

K- Did you check the length of the call?

J- No.

K- Yeah it’ll tell you how long the call lasted.

J- Fuck.

K- What?

J- 4 Minutes and 40 seconds.

K- Oh no…You talked to him. You did not leave a 5 minute voice mail.

Fabulous. Nothing like making a drunken late night declaration.



I think to myself, beer only from now on- no more drinks named after candy.

Neither of us even remember who took these pictures- and I lost an earring. I have my drunk face on… oh my.

My sister looked at me and said:

K- Listen. We went out- got shitfaced- left on our feet, in our shoes, in a cab home together, alone! We had a great time- and anybody who thinks anything of any of it can go to hell.

J- You have peanut shells in your shoes.

K- Beer only from now on.

No hangover… but I’d rather have one right now than not remember- and hey- my makeup is still great- we may go in later…

in jeans….

and flats.

for beer.


Bad choice of words & pervert of the day- Bonus Points!

If it wasn’t already a fabulous & sun-shiny day?

I have a contender for the worst email EVER in my internet dating adventure.

Go ahead and laugh a little- it’s so bad it’s good.

Can you keep up with me?

Hey hot farm girl, WOW! I’m into health myself. What are you growing to feed me? I’m a bit further than 50 miles but sometimes you just gotta get out of your own solar system to find your steller fire! Are we having fun yet! Let me know what I have to do to fit into your orbit.


I’m actually not kidding. No exaggeration- his name is Lunar.

My ex chose to change his name from Brett- to Solar.

The night I met Flintstone at the 219’er my ex came walking in (welcome to MY life). Flintstone laughed and introduced himself as “Lunar”after my sister told him my ex’s name was Solar.

If only this email were a joke from Flintstone… but no… the guys name really is Lunar.

He’s also 47 years old, Hairy Italian  and 6’7”  …um…that’s like dating an NBA player, without the hot black part.


He lives in Montana which, again, is never going to happen purely because they have even more snow than we do. Ugh- I hate the cold. I hate the snow. I want sun- sand- and a reason to be in bikini shape year round. I want gardenias in my flower garden. A pomegranate tree… a giant Meyer Lemon. Desperately- some day.

He’s 47, never been married and doesn’t have kids. See the flashing red lights? Bad, bad news. Any man that makes it as a single man that far in life is either non-committal or your garden-variety nightmare. Ick. Give me a crazy ex-wife any day- nothing is crazier than a guy over 40 who hasn’t been married. No kids? No thanks. Which is completely unfair because my kids loved the guy I dated who didn’t have kids- but then there are exceptions to every rule.

The kiss of death? (as if there needs to be one at this point)

This is what it says on his profile:  I read a lot of metaphysical/spiritual stuff along christian biblical lines

Another scary weird overly-confident old man stepping up to the plate.


Somehow 40 sounds a lot less exciting after you’ve seen 20…

Blame Canada…

Internet dating has taught me one thing that has held true the whole time.

They’re hiding a ton of hot men in Canada. In fact- an overwhelming majority of the emails I’ve gotten from beautiful men… have been Canadian.

There have been enough of them lately that I have to prove my theory a little and share. Keep in mind Hot does not equal normal, but if I posted a list of the scary ones, it’d just be mean. 🙂

1. Meet Jason…

Jason is an international businessman and competitive cyclist. He’s 39 years old, and is a single dad. Speaks 4 languages and owns a tractor (sigh).Nice arms- pretty smile… which gets me every time. My mom will even say to me now “OH! He has nice teeth!”  when she’s describing someone to me that she thinks I should meet. I’ve gotten far too easy, lol 🙂


Who’s responsible for keeping you in that small town? I’m based in Toronto. I own my own business and travel quite often. Spend a lot of time in NYC….I love it out there. Been divorced for 8 years and get along with my EX great. Do you have a passport?


I love me some Jason- but Canada is freaking cold- has more snow than we do- and so does NYC. I should be man shopping in Hawaii. 🙂

2. Meet Dreamman (his choosing, not mine)

Dreamy is 42, an electrical engineer and a single dad with 3 boys. Speaks 2 languages, loves to dance & vacation in all the same places I do. And he can cook 🙂


I would love to be in Idaho right now… Dating you would be awesome… You are someone I would get along with and have an awesome time with… Let keep chatting you never know what life may bring us… TOO HOT.. Email me

Again, a hot black man emails me and doesn’t give me his name. Go figure. TOO HOT is a little TOO MUCH but ah well- there’s a serious beautiful black man shortage in my neck of the woods.

3. Meet Henry, who kind of reminds me of Brett Favre… 🙂

Henry is 45… a single dad of a 5 year old little girl, and a college football coach 🙂 (I love college football, how fun would that be? lol, sorry, shallow moment) Any dad that takes the time to erase his kid from a picture he puts on his profile, is a cool guy in my book. He loves to surf & golf- two things I want to learn.

Hey there,

Any chance I can talk u into more babies? How’s that for a pickup?  Im at least a thousand miles away from you, wanna move? I always wanted to marry a country girl.


Yikers- how ’bout give me a minute to say Hi back. Sheesh. “Move here now let’s get PREGNANT!” Um…tempting, but no.

It’ always reminds me of a high desperation meat market. One where you learn FAR too much about your date before you meet them in person.

I don’t know if I can never want to go on another one of these stranger dates…

Talk foodie to me…

Ever realize a moment too late that you’re in shark infested water?

I’ll explain.

My dad is a chef- we grew up with Brie & Feta in the fridge- not cheese singles or mild cheddar (gag). We didn’t use ketchup on our food- in fact if I’m going to be completely honest- I still cringe a little when my kids squirt it all over something before they taste it. Thanks Dad. He taught me how to cook- how to bake- & how to eat. Admittedly- my sisters and I are a bunch of food snobs. Our parents had a bakery when we were little- He made the best birthday cakes ever- anything we wanted. He let us play in the kitchen while he worked and all of us can bake the pants off any man…

He was also quite a playboy. He left as many broken hearts in his wake as he did dirty dishes- & it was always a mixed blessing when Dad made dinner because the clean-up was intense. I realized as a teenager that he loved us all very much, but he lived to cook- and he was miserable without it. He wanted to be in the kitchen Christmas morning, even though he’d spent a fortune buying us all the things we wanted desperately. It’s his passion. He made every one of my favorite flavors for my wedding cake…  Sponge cake, Apple Spice, Carrot, Chocolate, Red Velvet, Lemon w/ Raspberries &  Huckleberry pound cake…. with Grand Marnier buttercream. He spoils the hell out of us every now and again. He can out-shop any man I’ve ever met- and introduced all of us to the magic of Victoria’s Secret gift cards- he’s truly one in a million. He’s the best dad in the world, when you’re standing in front of him. When you aren’t… life takes over and he gets back  to work. He’s had probably a dozen restaurants? ♥ him.

Which brings me back to the shark infested water I find myself swimming in.

Casual conversation with the man I adore…

J-What’s in that anyway?

He smiles at me & lists the ingredients… and he knows what he’s talking about…

More than me, even. <gasp> Stunned me straight silent… I was afraid of what I’d say if I opened my mouth. lol.

He knows more about food than I do… and it excites me more than I would like to admit. Go ahead and start waving your *Daddy Issues* flags, I’m waving my own right along with you.

I have to confess it’s a hell of a challenge because I can really cook- and admit fully to charming a man with my kitchen skills in the past…Hell I have a tart I made for a ex-boyfriend that makes me a fortune at the market every summer. I’ve always had this one in the bag before…