Match.flop

Little by little, internet dating is less about pedophile stalkers and more about genuine connections.  The thought of connecting based on keystrokes and pixels is scary, yet exciting. Or so I thought until I joined the cybernetic meat market.

After my pre-med days of pouring over classifications of arthropods in biology came to an end, I thought I was done reading boring crap.

I was wrong.

How interesting do you really think it sounds when you say "I'm a cool, laid back girl who likes to have fun." Who doesn't consider themself cool, laid-back, and fun loving? Come on. Say something worth reading.

At least list your allergies so I know something about you instead of the general population's mindset on who you should be.  Okay, I actually want you to list your allergies so I can plant them where you live and weed out the lame. One by one.

Also, if match.com profiles are an accurate indicator of America's literacy rate, we're screwed.  Between the emoticons and typos, it's not a pretty story.  I'll give it two years before text speech takes over all spoken dialect. "Bro, I ROFL'd and LOL'd all over the place." Screwed. We are screwed.

So, I have a story of shame to share. Actually, I have two. One is about the two faced carniwhore, the other is a story of how I gained my own arch-nemesis.

Stay tuned, the arch-nemesis is up first.