Tinder 2.0: Shit Just Got Real

I had to break up with Tinder. I just couldn't handle the freaks anymore. 

Then, while waiting for a set change at a concert in September, my friend convinced me to download the app again so we could 'play'. 

I haven't decided how to repay her. Yet. 

When I mentioned that having a selection of men like this was the equivalent of winning the lottery, her response was "Yeah, the Serial Killer Lottery!" And then I laughed so hard I choked on my drink. 

Merhaba Türkiye

Turns out I have quite a following in Turkey. 

Which is ironic because I'm a vegetarian. 



(Yes, that was a total groaner. And yes, I'm still laughing)

My Lawn Mower Has a First Name, it's S-N-A-K-E

My lawn mower has a second name, it's K-I-L-L-E-R...........

You know that startlingly awful sound the garbage disposal makes when a spoon or a fork slips in by accident? Interestingly, that's the exact sound a lawn mower makes when it runs over a snake. 

I know, because I've done it. More than once. 

When it happened the other day, I was horrified because that poor little snake was just out for a slither, seeing what tasty morsel might be in the neighborhood and then BAM!!!!....chopped in half.  

After I was past the shock of such a violent murder I realized two things:

1. The head was still moving and 

2. I only had a vague idea of where the rest of the body wound up

While I forced myself to look for parts, I noticed the head was still moving. A lot. I was completely grossed out. Poor little snake.  

What the Shark?!

Sharknado was beyond words. Sharknado 2 is beyond comprehension. 

If you thought watching the first movie was rough, watching Sharknado 2 is like chewing on crushed glass - it hurts like hell and nothing good will come of it. 

The cast is a Who's Who of craptastic actors, singers, and MTV VJ's. I'm pretty sure the only person who doesn't have a cameo is Nicholas Cage. Seriously, how is he not in this movie?!?!

Yet here I sit, tasty beverage in hand, watching what is sure to become a cult classic. I even made up my own drinking game in an effort to cope with what I fear will become the worst Trilogy ever made. It's a really simple game: every time Ian Ziering (whose name is Fin, by the way) looks concerned or confused, you have to drink. If you manage to make it to the end of the movie without blacking out, I salute you. 

(And for those of you with an irrational fear of sharks, just remember that a Sharknado isn't impossible, just very unlikely. So if you live in the Tri-State area, you should probably get a chainsaw) 

Happy (Insert Day of the Week)

This is an honest question: 

When someone says to me "Happy Monday!" or "Happy Friday!" what are they expecting me to say in return? 

Because 98% of the time, it's someone at work who is overly perky when they utter the phrase and punching a co-worker in the throat is frowned upon by HR. 

"Happy Monday" - Last time I checked, most people would rather drink bleach than go to work on Monday. Hearing you bubble "Happy Monday!" is enough to push anyone over the edge. If you're one of these annoying Happy Monday people, you've been warned.

"Happy Tuesday" - you've never heard it because no one has ever uttered it. 

"Happy Hump Day" - it's not the Hump Day part of it that bothers me. I think we really need to revisit your definition of the word 'Happy'. 

"Happy Friday's Eve" - I am sitting on my hands so I don't take a swing at you. Yes, tomorrow is Friday. And the day after that is Saturday. Snaps for you for knowing the days of the week. Do you want a cookie? 

"Happy Friday" - wow, we all made it to the end of the week and I didn't actually assault you. I guess that is something to be happy about! 



ps. I hate the word 'Insert'

Wanna Play Tinder?

*Mom and Dad - some of the things you are about to see cannot be unseen*

About a year ago, a friend introduced me to a free dating app called "Tinder". In my quest to find the perfect cabana boy, I figured it couldn't hurt to give it a try so I set up a very basic profile. There was only one problem: it said that I was 12 years old. After several attempts to fix it, I had to give up and delete the app because, well, that's just creepy.

Fast forward about 4 months. Another friend was obsessed with Tinder and mandated that I try it again. Begrudgingly, I agreed. Turns out it might have been one of the best decisions I ever made - if only for the entertainment it has provided. 

For those who aren't familiar with the app, it's very simple. You choose your parameters (gender, age, distance) and it brings up everyone that matches the criteria. If you like them, you click the green heart button. If you don't like them, you click the red X button. If you like them and they like you, you are matched and can begin chatting if desired. 

(One quick side note - almost all of the pictures that I'm posting on here got the red X from me. Some I couldn't get away from fast enough!)

So as I'm getting further into the Tinder-verse, I come to find out it's known as the 'hook up' app. Fabulous. Just what I need. And then I came across this guy. And I was so confused!

I'm not sure which is more horrifying - the picture, the fact that he's very married and on a dating site, or that he felt the world needed to know his wife has one functioning tube and an IUD. Seriously, what is wrong with people?!

On your Tinder profile, you're allowed one main picture and 5 additional pictures. This guy  put on a fashion show in his pics. (And I'm only showing 3 here because the rest will scar you for life)

But wait!!!! There's more!!! I got this message from someone I matched with. I was speechless. Literally. 

As I mentioned earlier, you select the gender with which you want to potentially match. Unfortunately, there's not a way to let the app know you're not a gay man looking for other gay men.  So then this happens...

I felt guilty keeping this much fun all to myself, so I convinced a few friends to join as well. I'd like to think they're thanking me for it. Otherwise, they'd be missing out on this: 

And this...

Urf. 

At the end of the day, it's been a priceless education (in what, I'm not sure yet). I haven't found the perfect cabana boy, but that hasn't deterred me. Maybe it's this guy?

The More You Know...

Here's a PSA, from me to you - because I love and care about every one of you so much!!!!!! 

                     

         (You'll have to imagine inspirational music playing in the background)

Turn lanes are the same width as regular traffic lanes! 

And sometimes, they're even wider!

This means you can fit your entire vehicle into a turn lane without interrupting anyone else. 

Go on, give it a try. 
I'll be glad you did! 

Now you know. 

And the Award Goes To...

I'm not stupid. I've done some really stupid things - I think we can all agree on that. But I'm not stupid. 

I'm a college graduate, I've traveled a good part of the world, I've held a job since I was 15, I can carry on an intelligent conversation, I completed a summer study program at Oriel College in Oxford (yes, THAT Oxford), and I can recite several movies from the '80's. So I'm trying to figure out why so many people need to explain themselves to death and 'coach' me on how to send an email, make a phone call, or ask for something. Please don't insult my intelligence by discussing an issue with me, ask me to follow up on it, and then dictate to me what the email should say. I'm 100% confident I can draft an email requesting what is needed. If you'd prefer to dictate it because you're a raging bitch of a control freak, please hire an Executive Assistant (not me) to accommodate your irrationalities and narcissism.

One of the personality traits I find most attractive is when someone knows how to leave a conversation. I do not like - nay, can't stand - dawdlers. And I'm surrounded by them. These are the people that will come to you to express their thought/question/concern and once you've given your answer/opinion, the conversation is over, right? WRONG! They will then re-read the email they brought with them, stand in your doorway in silence, slightly vary the whole of what they just said, or look at you like a deer in the headlights as if there were something more to say when clearly there isn't. Once they realize how awkward the situation is they start all over from the top and it becomes this vicious cycle until you are forced to be an asshole in the hopes of getting them to leave.

NEWS FLASH: Just because you say the same thing twenty different ways does not mean my response will be any different than the first time you said it. 

Here is a prime example. This was an actual phone conversation I had with Debbie* last Thursday afternoon:

D: Can you call the regional loan center tomorrow and find out what we need to get this resolved?

Me: Sure. 

D: Because I'd really like to enjoy my day off tomorrow and not have Steve* calling me every 5 minutes like a psycho. 

Me: Ok. (Hoping this is the end of the conversation)

D: Do you have the phone number?

Me: Yes. (Seriously, where is this going?)

D: Ok, because if you need it there's a binder in my office with all of the phone numbers in it. I think it's on my desk next to a stack of papers. If you need it, just go in there and grab it and get the phone number.  

Me: (uncomfortably long pause while I consider asking her if she has a Rolodex, too). Um, ok. 

(At this point, I want to make a drinking game out of it - every time she keeps talking instead of getting off the phone, I get to do a shot.) 

D: So yeah, if you could just call and ask to talk with an underwriter in the production department, actually they're all underwriters in the production department, and see what they'll accept since we can't get what they want and Steve is going to keep hounding me until we get this figured out. 

Me: Yeah, ok. (omg, where's my shot?!)

D: I just don't know what we can possibly get but if you could call and ask them what they'll accept, that would be great. 

Me: Mmmhmm. (chastising myself for not keeping alcohol in my desk)

D: Ok, and if you guys need anything tomorrow just call me. I'll be around so just call if anything comes up or if you have any questions. 

Me: Ok, will do. (at this point I'm thinking "Fuck the alcohol, get me a gun.") 

D: Ok, bye! 

Me: Bye. 

I hung up the phone with nothing less than sheer wonder. Wonder that someone can make a 15 second conversation into 5 minutes of complete torture; wonder that there are actually people in her life who can tolerate her; wonder that I haven't gone postal yet; and wonder that she is in a position of power. 

*Names have been changed to protect the idiots