Fuck you, Match.com!

Dear *************,

Thank you for submitting your profile to Match.com.

Unfortunately, we have rejected the profile submission due to the inclusion of language we deem inappropriate for our member community. If you are serious in your attempt to find a mutual match on our site, please revise your profile text and resubmit it following the instructions listed below…

An excerpt from the generic email I’ve gotten far too many times. It comes in my inbox because Match.com users can’t handle certain words. Some of them are minors and shouldn’t rea—WAIT, that’s complete bullshit. Everyone is of legal banging age. They all have credit cards. So you think they'd be able to handle phrases like “cum bubble”.

When I spread my lids and welcome this email into my eyes, I get all riled up.  But not the good riled up. Not the hot-for-teacher riled up I get anytime I hear Miss Othmar talk dirty to me.

No, not like that. No, I get aangrry. But let’s get to the point here, shall we? The pink and tender and ready-for-naughty point: the kind of words in my profile that make Match rejectulate all over my face.

Swears. But not crazy swears. Before the genesis of this blahg post I had never dropped the fuck-bomb in my "pick me!" page. Just shit like “shit” and “asshole.” Oh, and once I typed “cocaine.”

(PAUSE for reader to ask “Why the hell would he put “cocaine” in his dating profile?”)

 

Anyone who knows me is aware of my gutter mind and mouth. I admit this. I use all different kinds of blue to express myself. If you knew my extraordinary Catholic yet filthy-minded family you'd understand where it stems from. It’s who I am and how I giggle at the world and express my passion for certain things (like how cool chairs are! Double fucking cool!).

So in protest of Match.cum’s ripenisulous prohibitchin of certain whords, I wrote a slot of foul sintences and nailed them onto the “Abutt Me” sextion of my profile. And gash what! I’m going to share them with ewe!

Clitoris, as in “Family is extremely important to me. I love chillin’ with my favorite cousin Clitoris. He was screwed over by the semantic change of the word, but it meant something completely different when it was an old family name. Kinda like how the word 'gay' was commonly used to describe someone who is was happy. Now gay means sad.”

Cock ring, as in “I detest animal abuse, especially when roosters are placed in a cock ring to fight to the death.”

(SECOND PAUSE so reader can wonder if writer is ever going to explain the “cocaine” bomb)

Fuck, as in “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m awesome and you should date me!”

Boobies, as in “My favorite animals are Blue Footed Boobies. If you have a pair of them I would love to bury my face in them, or slide my rock-hard, cock-ringless penis them in between them in a vigorous thrusting motion.” See, not offensive in the least and it’s bullshit they don’t let me put it in there.

Bullshit, as in “The funniest thing that’s ever happened to me was when I was on a ranch in Montana trying to coerce a bull to fill a special bull condom with its bull-seed, and it proceeded to bullshit all over my face.” 

Cocaine, as in 

(THIRD PAUSE for "Really, guy? Really? You're gonna be asshole about it?")

Asshole, as in “I believe Jesus’s basic message boiled down to ‘Don’t be an asshole.’ I also often wonder if he ever got an itchy asshole.”

Pot, as in “I love gardening. Clitoris gave me a lovely pot to grow my pot in.”

Cunnilingus, as in “My hobbies include photography, writing, cunnilingus and scrap booking.”

Crack whore, as in “It feels so awkward writing about yourself in these things. Crack whore."

  

 

Now here’s where this blahg entry gets a really silly. I put the following sentences in my profile and they DIDN’T get rejected.

Breasts, as in “I like to shake it up in the bedroom by mixing food with sex, especially burying my face in a few chicken breasts that are in between her breasts.”

Heroin, as in “I am terrible at spelling, thought I don’t let it stop me from writing stories. A favorite protagonist of mine is a heroin that rescues drug addicts from their poison of choice: heroine.”

Fisting, as in “I love fisting, but only for the rights of those who don’t have a voice.”

Sluts, as in “The heroin in my latest story loves sluts.”

Testicles, as in “Hidden talents: being able to tie a knot in a cherry stem with my tongue, being able to do the splits, and having three testicles.”

To read another entry about my online dating adventures, click here. 

An Open Letter to Kristen Wiig

 

Dear Kristen,

Can I call you Kristen? Ms. Wiig? Kinky.

I know we've never met, but I'm hoping by the end of this letter you'll at least consider meeting me.

I just feel it in my heart, and my other spot, that I'm meant to have your babies. That probably came off a LITTLE WEIRD WHOOps didn't mean to hit the caps lock, but I think that with your history of making people laugh really hard and my history of seeing three of your movies and laughing really hard at two of them, we could really give this a go. Like a really solid love effort.

I realize you're dating that one guy who's an actor/writer/filmmaker/handsome and though he seems really dreamy, he's not unemployed like me. Yeah. I'm fairly certain that he doesn't drive a Buick like me either. And he probably doesn't even get excited when he finds new hairs on his body like I do. KaBOOM! What's up now?

Look, you're funny and all I'm saying is that we could go on a date and I could probably buy you a salad. Tops. After that, I think it would be great to do something free like go on a bike ride or maybe a drive in your car where we could talk about life. LIFE! Like how crazy life can get sometimes! Like, "It's so crazy that Kristen Wiig is driving me around right now and all I can think about is nachos."

I know this may seem a bit silly and convoluted but I just want you to know that if you're looking for a guy who's willing and able to vacuum and watch your television for you, I'm your man. I could do other stuff too, like talk about LIFE! O.K. Come back. I'm sorry. It's just that you are so beautiful and so smart and hilarious that it just makes me want to wait in line to shake your hand and freeze up and say nothing when I had an entire speech planned about how Bridesmaids made me laugh really really hard and meant so much to me while I got drunk and high alone.

So yeah, I like your style. And we should touch.

-Brad

de Fat Man + The Hipster: Fake Craigslist Post #2

This is the second installment of Fake Craigslist Posts, a useless hobby of mine I employ to distract me from that growth on my neck that I really need to get checked out. If you would like to read about my growth, I mean, if you'd like to read the 1st Fake Craigslist Post, click here. 

The "Missed Connections" section is easily my favorite part of Craigslist primarily because the posts nearly always come off as pathetic. The concept is this: it's a place for you to reconnect with someone from long ago that you miss or someone who you missed your chance to copulate with. Many of them are along the lines of "I saw you in the (name of store) on (name of street). We locked eyes and you seemed to dig my musk and stuff. We should bang in the back of my 1996 Buick Regal LIMITED." Alright, not all of them are like that. Only the ones I longingly write when I'm always. But can we get real? My all-time favorite Missed Connection: "You dropped your bible in church and I saw your thong." Gold.

de Fat Man


A few weekends ago I did the Tour de Fat with a couple of my besties (you know who you are, yes you do!). The Tour is an event put on by Colorado's own New Belgium Brewery (the makers of Fat Tire + many other delicious beers) that travels around the U.S. Participants dress in costume and ride their bike through the city with thousands of other riders. Estimates ranged from 4,000-1,000,000,000,000 riders. Along the 4-mile-or-so route I was inspired by both my friends and the atmosphere to write another fake CL post.

The first time I posted as a male looking for a woman (m4w). It was flagged for removal almost immediately, before I got any responses, which means that women looking for that Missed Connection take this shit very seriously. The men, however, were a little bit more gullible, and I snagged two responses (with photos!) before I got flagged. As usual, I've included a screen shot of the post, the text below it, and the image in the post. Below all that shiat is the responses I received.

sexy tour de fat man - w4m - 27 (denber)

u were sitting on a bike. pretty general, i know, but chill. im gettin there.

u were riding that bike like nobodys business w/ sum friends who were also riding bikes, wearing a get-up that made u look really funny, like sum1 who doesn't take themselves 2 seriously, which is hot. u had a pretty serious look on ur face a lot of the time, which I admit was a bit unsettling, almost like u were about to kill sum1. maybe that annoying friend? or maybe ur ride was going terribly. i'm not sure. not a mind reader here. then after the tour u may or may not have eaten some food &/or listened to music &/or killed sumbody. i realize thats a lot of "may or may not haves" but i didn't follow u around the rest of the day. i'm a little 2 busy and way 2 popular to b a creeper, thank u very much. plus, i was quite certain it wasn't my day to be murdered (and i was correct!).

anywho, if ur u, then u should respond to this and maybe we could, i donno, get all hot & sweaty together. or ride bikes. i like doing both.

oh, & shit! how could i forget this all important detail nugget? u had hair on ur head.
 

AND THE RESPONSES! 

It's the ";)" that really disturbs me:

First of all, don't you dare call me "Darln"! Secondly, you're an idiot. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to ride a motorcycle in the tour.

 

And Game Over :(

 

Hipster Roadkill

Though this one has netted only one response and is still active, I thought I'd post it anyway so you people would stop calling me and begging me for another blahg post. It's really getting out of hand and yes I can't afford a body guard because I'm still unemployed so yes I've hired a cardboard cutout of Mr. T. Yeah, you're the pathetic ones.

This brain burst was inspired when I was riding my bike and almost decimated a runner. I was in the wrong and instantly thought of the guy posting something along this vein. I tweaked a few specs and got this: 

to the hipster I almost ran over - m4w - 36 (17th & High St., Denver)

dear hipster chick I almost ran over at the corner of 17th & high st. I'd appreciate an apology for all the proffanity you used. yes you couldve died but those words you used were hurtful and just plain mean. i realize i couldve killed you but what about the part of my heart that you killed with words like "idiot" and "repugnoid." not even sure what that one means but i didn't like the context and your tone when you used it. if your ready to own up to the pain youve cause, message me back here and tell me what color fanny pack you were wearing

peace

The response was from an admirer who thought I was funny. I'm not going to waste your time with the details, except to let you know I printed it off immediately and pasted it in my "You Brightened Someone's Day!" scrap book. Then I had a crygasm. 

 

Psst. Down here? So you're a crygasmer? There's no need to be ashamed. And there's no need to cry about it. Seriously dude, get ahold of yourself. No, not like that, you sick fuck. Oh my God. Dude, you're cleaning that u— And you're crying again. Great. Well, make it up to me and pass this blahg post onto your crygasm support group. And seriously, clean that shit up. 

Click here to read my third Fake Craigslist post.  And if you missed my first FC post, that's a shame. Because there's absolutely no way to find it.