Friday, March 10, 2017

My Online Dating Profile

Hi potential boyfriend, I chose this profile picture NOT because I'm into slasher films. This is just the way my face looks most of the time.

I'm a few inches taller than Peter Dinklage, marginally more attractive than Danny DeVito, and have no discernible talents.

Do not expect me to say anything witty, intelligent or remotely sensible.

Do not expect me to wear clean socks.

Do not expect me to smell like clean socks....or anything clean.

Please bring proof of employment and residence to our first meeting. Mind you I'm not a gold-digger. I just want to make sure you don't live in a cardboard box under a freeway.

My first language is Thai, but I can communicate in English adequately. If you can't speak either Thai or English fluently, however, I suggest we both take a sign language course, or better yet, intensive telepathy.

Just because I like yoga, Pilates and meditation, doesn't mean you should take me to a hippie vegan restaurant on our first date. I honestly can't go a day without meat or seafood or at least eggs. But if you really want to take me to a meatless place, I guess I'll cooperate, pretend to enjoy my meal there, and maybe even compliment the food out of respect. Once we're done and ready to leave, I'll grab a sharpened pork-chop bone from my purse (yeah, I carry that around all the time) and stab you in the heart. In. The. Heart.

I have horrible taste in music. I can't sing. I can't play any instrument. So if you're a music snob, please don't bother to read the rest of my profile. Leave. Forget about me. And never come back. It's just not meant to be.

I adore beards. If you don't already have it, please grow one. Not the "swamp people" kind of beards, though. More like Deandre Levy's beard. If you'd never heard of him, just google him. Once you see him, you'd know the man puts a lot of effort into taking care of that majestic beard. His beard routine probably goes like this: wash with fragrance-free baby shampoo, gently massage with Moroccan oil in a circular motion for 30 minutes, 55 strokes of brushing, 2 capsules of beard vitamin before each meal, and play Beethoven no. 9 to the beard right before bedtime.

I have to confess I'm not that into sex. Four times a month is my limit. If we do it more than that in one month, the extra sessions will be deducted from the following months. For example, 6 times in March means only twice in April. And twelve times in October means no coitus for the rest of the year.

Another confession: I'm lazy and socially awkward and, let me say this once more, do not smell clean. So instead of going out and partying, I recommend this one simple activity we could do together--it's called reading. You have a book of your choice, and I have mine. They have to be real books, though. Not eBooks. (But if you're so gungho about saving trees and shit, fine! Bring your iPad or Kindle or whatever.) Then we sit on a couch or a bed or a trampoline or the edge of a cliff, and quietly read our books together, while holding hands. Wouldn't that be nice?

Things that make me happy: my mom sitting silently (which almost never happens), toe socks, lobster head fat, that sensation of putting my hand into a sack of rice and wiggling my fingers, the resurrection of Jon Snow.

Things that make me sad: cellulite on my thighs, soggy fried chicken, the possibility that ghosts may not actually exist, the fact that I used to watch The Apprentice, the castration of Theon Greyjoy.

I think you've heard enough about me now. If you're interested, please DO NOT contact me. I'm kind of in the process of negotiation for an open marriage with my husband. This unfortunately could take time. He might eventually agree to it when I'm in my sixties or something. If you want to stick around and wait, feel free to do so. It's only about 30 more years. 

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