Email Sent in by Devon:
If you wanted a type of lipstick that they only had in Nebraska then I would drive all the way out and grab it for you. I am that kind of guy. You would in return have to service me orally.
"THAT'S NOT FAIR" I hear you say because lipstick is lipstick and oral is oral.
Well you are right but by the time you figured that out would would have you new lipstick and those lips would be servicing me if you know what that means.
Hiho,
Julian
1/28/2012
In Other News: Woman Thrown Overboard
Story Sent in by Andrew:
Stephanie professed a love of animals on her profile, and she even had included photos of herself with a killer whale and with an elephant. I like animals as much as the average person, I'd say, but I liked Stephanie's smile and outgoing personality even more, so I messaged her and engaged her on the topic of animals. She had a lot to say, and I offered to continue the conversation with a dinner date.
At dinner, Stephanie sat down across from me, and said, "So, I'm in a bit of a sea turtle phase at the moment, so you can call me 'Stephanie the sea turtle!'"
"All right. Do you do work with sea turtles?"
"I'm going with the University of Delaware's Marine Science Program on a trip to study them. They picked me to go with them out of hundreds of applicants. I'm going to swim with them and be as one with them."
"That's great. How'd you swing that?"
"I lied on my application to the program and said that I had a Ph.D. in marine biology. I just really want to swim with the sea turtles."
I frowned. "What if they ask you some marine biology-related questions?"
"Stephanie the sea turtle knows them all."
"Okay. When did sea turtles first appear in the fossil record?"
Without taking a moment to think, she replied, "About a million billion years ago. They've always been around. Longer than dinosaurs."
"I see. What's the genus and species of the sea turtles you're going to study?"
She replied, "Sea turtle."
"What if they ask to see your dissertation?"
"They did. I'm sending it in to them. It's 'borrowed' from someone, but it's from a really obscure college that they've probably never heard of."
I said, "But they can still probably do a search. Aren't those types of academic papers public, so that they can stand against review and all that?" I've never done a dissertation, so I'm (still) not sure how the process works.
She said, "They haven't yet, and if they do, then I'll hopefully be at sea with the turtles by then, and what will they do? Throw me overboard?"
She laughed and snorted. I laughed along with her. The waitress came over and asked us if we were ready to order. I let Stephanie go first, and her exact words were, "Stephanie the sea turtle will have the eggplant parmesan," and then she looked the waitress in the eye and asked, "Do I look like I've done a dissertation?"
The waitress said, "Absolutely."
Stephanie turned to me and said, "See? It'll be fine."
I ordered my own food, and Stephanie talked more about sea turtles: their variety of color, their voices, their shells, and their beautiful eyes. Finally, after our dinner was served, she made it around to asking me, "What's your favorite animal, then?"
I replied, "I'm not sure. Bears, maybe."
"Not sea turtles?"
"No."
Stephanie said, "Oh. I mean, we've spent so much time talking about sea turtles that I thought that… I don't know. That we had that in common."
"We can still like different animals, Stephanie."
She didn't respond, and she shot me dark looks for the rest of dinner. I asked her a few more questions about herself (non-sea turtle related) and she gave me short answers, as if she didn't really want to be there anymore.
After a particularly painful length of silence, she murmured into her lap, "Stephanie the sea turtle is the best sea turtle ever. I'm even going to fool the sea turtles."
"I'm sure you are," I said.
She looked up at me and asked, "You heard that?"
"Well, you said it loud enough for me to hear."
"Oh. Okay."
Showing none of the excitement that she had exhibited before, she split the check with me, we walked out together, she bade me a hasty goodnight, and off she went to go back to her house, or pen, or tank, or wherever she came from.
Stephanie professed a love of animals on her profile, and she even had included photos of herself with a killer whale and with an elephant. I like animals as much as the average person, I'd say, but I liked Stephanie's smile and outgoing personality even more, so I messaged her and engaged her on the topic of animals. She had a lot to say, and I offered to continue the conversation with a dinner date.
At dinner, Stephanie sat down across from me, and said, "So, I'm in a bit of a sea turtle phase at the moment, so you can call me 'Stephanie the sea turtle!'"
"All right. Do you do work with sea turtles?"
"I'm going with the University of Delaware's Marine Science Program on a trip to study them. They picked me to go with them out of hundreds of applicants. I'm going to swim with them and be as one with them."
"That's great. How'd you swing that?"
"I lied on my application to the program and said that I had a Ph.D. in marine biology. I just really want to swim with the sea turtles."
I frowned. "What if they ask you some marine biology-related questions?"
"Stephanie the sea turtle knows them all."
"Okay. When did sea turtles first appear in the fossil record?"
Without taking a moment to think, she replied, "About a million billion years ago. They've always been around. Longer than dinosaurs."
"I see. What's the genus and species of the sea turtles you're going to study?"
She replied, "Sea turtle."
"What if they ask to see your dissertation?"
"They did. I'm sending it in to them. It's 'borrowed' from someone, but it's from a really obscure college that they've probably never heard of."
I said, "But they can still probably do a search. Aren't those types of academic papers public, so that they can stand against review and all that?" I've never done a dissertation, so I'm (still) not sure how the process works.
She said, "They haven't yet, and if they do, then I'll hopefully be at sea with the turtles by then, and what will they do? Throw me overboard?"
She laughed and snorted. I laughed along with her. The waitress came over and asked us if we were ready to order. I let Stephanie go first, and her exact words were, "Stephanie the sea turtle will have the eggplant parmesan," and then she looked the waitress in the eye and asked, "Do I look like I've done a dissertation?"
The waitress said, "Absolutely."
Stephanie turned to me and said, "See? It'll be fine."
I ordered my own food, and Stephanie talked more about sea turtles: their variety of color, their voices, their shells, and their beautiful eyes. Finally, after our dinner was served, she made it around to asking me, "What's your favorite animal, then?"
I replied, "I'm not sure. Bears, maybe."
"Not sea turtles?"
"No."
Stephanie said, "Oh. I mean, we've spent so much time talking about sea turtles that I thought that… I don't know. That we had that in common."
"We can still like different animals, Stephanie."
She didn't respond, and she shot me dark looks for the rest of dinner. I asked her a few more questions about herself (non-sea turtle related) and she gave me short answers, as if she didn't really want to be there anymore.
After a particularly painful length of silence, she murmured into her lap, "Stephanie the sea turtle is the best sea turtle ever. I'm even going to fool the sea turtles."
"I'm sure you are," I said.
She looked up at me and asked, "You heard that?"
"Well, you said it loud enough for me to hear."
"Oh. Okay."
Showing none of the excitement that she had exhibited before, she split the check with me, we walked out together, she bade me a hasty goodnight, and off she went to go back to her house, or pen, or tank, or wherever she came from.
1/27/2012
The Apple Should've Fallen Further
Profile Sent in by Elle:
About me:
I have three cars all of which I bought with my own cash flow! Suck it, mom and dad!
A date with you and I will mean that you (obviously pretty) will come with me to my parents house so they can see who I'm rolling with these days. Then I'll take you out somewhere, I don't know. wherever you want.
If things go well, we'll go out again, natch. Simple, straight shooting.
Stick to Your Guns
Emails Sent in by Phil:
Hey I like your profile but I was wondering about something. On it you say that you want women, but could I convince you to also like guys? I ask because the idea of seeing a guy with another guy right in front of me is pretty good and I was wondering if you would be interested?
Amy
******************************************************
Phil Responds:
Amy,
Is there money involved?
Phil
******************************************************
Amy Responds:
Uhhhhh.... no but you get to have a good time with another guy in front of me lol. I don't have money and maybe I'll let you do something quick to me, like touch a breast or something.
Amy
******************************************************
Phil Responds:
No deal.
******************************************************
Amy Responds:
K.
That's Not for Sale
Story Sent in by Marissa:
Jeffrey and I met up at a mall on a rainy day for our first meeting. We had lunch in a restaurant, then walked around, sat down for a bit, then walked around some more.
It would have been fine, aside from the fact that at one point, after I told Jeffrey an embarrassing story about my past, he put his arm around me as if to console me, but as a joke. Then, he kept his arm there, which I thought was a bit forward, and then, he reached down with that same arm and pinched my rear.
"Hey!" I said, and pulled away from him, "None of that."
"Ever?" he asked.
I replied, "Um, not today. That's a little much."
He beckoned to me. "Come here," he said, and walked further away, then added, when he saw I wasn't following, "I promise, nothing bad. Just follow me for a sec. Please."
I did. We walked to an under-populated stairwell and walked up a flight, so that we were on a landing where no one else was. I thought that there was a particular store that he wanted to check out, or else–
He turned to me on the landing, said, "That's not a little much. This is," and then shot his hand toward my lap.
I was able to hit his hand away in time. He tried again with his other hand. I grabbed his wrist and bent his fingers back.
"Yeeeooow!" he screeched, then ripped his hand away, looked at his fingers, said, "You psycho bitch!" then ran upstairs.
I was shocked by what had happened, but I quickly headed downstairs, out of the mall, and home, before he could change his mind about my "psychosis" or my perceived receptiveness to his advances.
Jeffrey and I met up at a mall on a rainy day for our first meeting. We had lunch in a restaurant, then walked around, sat down for a bit, then walked around some more.
It would have been fine, aside from the fact that at one point, after I told Jeffrey an embarrassing story about my past, he put his arm around me as if to console me, but as a joke. Then, he kept his arm there, which I thought was a bit forward, and then, he reached down with that same arm and pinched my rear.
"Hey!" I said, and pulled away from him, "None of that."
"Ever?" he asked.
I replied, "Um, not today. That's a little much."
He beckoned to me. "Come here," he said, and walked further away, then added, when he saw I wasn't following, "I promise, nothing bad. Just follow me for a sec. Please."
I did. We walked to an under-populated stairwell and walked up a flight, so that we were on a landing where no one else was. I thought that there was a particular store that he wanted to check out, or else–
He turned to me on the landing, said, "That's not a little much. This is," and then shot his hand toward my lap.
I was able to hit his hand away in time. He tried again with his other hand. I grabbed his wrist and bent his fingers back.
"Yeeeooow!" he screeched, then ripped his hand away, looked at his fingers, said, "You psycho bitch!" then ran upstairs.
I was shocked by what had happened, but I quickly headed downstairs, out of the mall, and home, before he could change his mind about my "psychosis" or my perceived receptiveness to his advances.
1/26/2012
That Must Exist on YouTube Somewhere
Profile Sent in by Crystal:
About me:
My most prized possessions are my books. Not my gadgets, not my childhood toys, not baseball cards. Books are magic. I believe that with every sense of the word.
Just the other day I was reading one of my national geographic books and read about the rhino. They have horns sticking out of their nose and not the musical kind! These horns are made of tightly packed hairs. Try to pack your own hairs together as tight as you might but it won't get that tight.
Speaking of hairs, pubic hair is really gross to have caught in your throat. I speak from experience if you know what I mean. Do you think rhinos have pubic hair or do you think they have lots of little pubic horns as a result of their hair being so tightly packed into their nose horn? These are the things I think about and about rhinos going down on each other. Books are magic.
About me:
My most prized possessions are my books. Not my gadgets, not my childhood toys, not baseball cards. Books are magic. I believe that with every sense of the word.
Just the other day I was reading one of my national geographic books and read about the rhino. They have horns sticking out of their nose and not the musical kind! These horns are made of tightly packed hairs. Try to pack your own hairs together as tight as you might but it won't get that tight.
Speaking of hairs, pubic hair is really gross to have caught in your throat. I speak from experience if you know what I mean. Do you think rhinos have pubic hair or do you think they have lots of little pubic horns as a result of their hair being so tightly packed into their nose horn? These are the things I think about and about rhinos going down on each other. Books are magic.
You Could Just Date a Rock
Email Sent in by Connor:
Hi Connor.
Thank you for your inbox message. You ask a lot of good questions. My question to you is: could you survive a relationship with no intercourse ever? We can still breed but I will have your semen artificially inserted while I am under general anesthesia. Once you get to know me better I will explain all the whys and whats but I figure that before we move into knowing each other tenderly you should know this upfront and center. If I see a single sp3rm at all then I don't care if we've been together months, years, decades, centuries, or millennia. Sperm=breakup.
Terri
Hi Connor.
Thank you for your inbox message. You ask a lot of good questions. My question to you is: could you survive a relationship with no intercourse ever? We can still breed but I will have your semen artificially inserted while I am under general anesthesia. Once you get to know me better I will explain all the whys and whats but I figure that before we move into knowing each other tenderly you should know this upfront and center. If I see a single sp3rm at all then I don't care if we've been together months, years, decades, centuries, or millennia. Sperm=breakup.
Terri
Sensitivity Impaired
Story Sent in by Marc:
In one of my early online conversations with Debbie, she mentioned that she liked carnations, their variety of color, and all that. Because I thought it would be nice, I picked up a small bouquet of them right before our first date, which was to be at a small neighborhood restaurant.
I gave them to her upon meeting her, and she seemed truly flattered. She thanked me several times, and then we went inside to eat.
As we slipped into conversation, she asked me, "Have I told you about my brother at all?"
"Not much aside from the fact that you have one, and that he's ill?"
She nodded. "Cerebral palsy. He's at Marren Treatment Center. He loves carnations, too. I think it's the colors. I was going to visit him after dinner."
After dinner, according to the plans that Debbie and I had made, we were supposed to go to another place that was having live music. Perhaps she had forgotten.
I asked, "Are we still going to Soft Note?"
She said, "Oh! I forgot that. Um, sure, we can still go. Can we hit Marren first? It won't take long."
"I can just meet you at Soft Note. I don't want to impose or interrupt the time you're spending with your brother."
"You won't be imposing! I just want to stop in, show him the flowers you gave me, and then we can go."
Sounded quick, and also sounded important to her. I didn't mind the side trip, and so I followed her in my car to the treatment center.
Her brother, Paul, to put it gently, had a pretty severe case of CP. He was in a wheelchair and couldn't seem to move without some difficulty, although he definitely reacted with some excitement when he saw his sister with the flowers. She handed them to him, and he swung them back and forth, like a baseball bat, until he became tired.
"He really likes them," Debbie said, "Would you mind if he kept them?"
"Not at all." They were Debbie's flowers, and she was free to do what she wanted with them. Giving them to her sick brother, I thought, was a sweet gesture.
We had been there for about a half-hour when I asked, "Did you want to head to Soft Note soon?"
She said, "In just a little bit. I haven't been here to see him in over a year."
A realization hit me. I asked, "So you decided to see him the night of our date?"
She replied, "Well, yeah. The flowers reminded me of him, and we were in the area." She then postured her forearms upright against her chest, rocked back and forth, and said, "Durr! Durr! Durr!" in what I guessed was meant to be an impersonation of her brother.
It was odd that not only had she not visited her sick, local brother in over a year, but that of all the times she chose to visit, it was in the middle of our date.
She went back to filling her brother in all about her life, and he occasionally swung the flowers around, shaking off leaves and petals, bending them in every direction. She laughed at that, and a few other things that he did, including a glance at me each time as if to ask, "Isn't he ridiculous?"
We had been there for 45 minutes. I stood up and said, "I'll meet you at Soft Note."
She replied, "Okay. I'm going to see if I can take Paul with me."
"Take him... I'm sorry, what?"
She slipped past me and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with Paul. I told him that it was nice to meet him, but he didn't respond.
Debbie returned and told me that even though she was related, the place wouldn't let her check him out. She said, "I'm going to call my parents to see if one of them will come down here now and authorize a release, even if just to come to Soft Note. I really think Paul would love it there. Durr, durr."
"I'm sure he would. Meet you there, then. Maybe."
I went myself to Soft Note and very much enjoyed the music. Debbie texted me twice, once to ask, "Can't reach my parents. If they agree to let him out, can u come back here and help me stuff him in the car?" and the second time to say, "Nevermind. I'm breaking him out of here tonight."
Debbie herself never made it to Soft Note, and I suppose I forgot to ever reach out to her again.
1/25/2012
Behind, Rewind
Profile Sent in by Wilson:
Who I'm looking for:
I will send you a picture of my ex (from behind) and if you look kind of like him (from behind) then you can message me, but only if you look like him from behind. I have my reasons please.
Sound the Retreat
Story Sent in by Cristina:
Julia and I spoke online for a while before we met in person, mostly because I had to go on a work-related retreat for nine days, which prevented us from meeting up as soon as I would have liked.
When we did finally meet up for the first time, in a local city park, she was full of questions: How did the retreat go? (Well.) What was emphasized? (Leadership and building trust with consumers - yawn.) How many people went? (50.) Did I think it was a good thing for the 50 of us to go through? (Not really. A half-hour meeting would have imparted the same wisdom.) And so on and so on.
As we walked, she asked me a few more questions about the retreat, then finally asked, "Did anyone bring their significant others?"
"No," I replied, "It was for company employees only, and I don't think that any significant others would've wanted to go. The whole affair was meeting after meeting in a pretty place."
"I probably would've liked it," Julia said, with acid in her tone, "I mean, if I was invited."
I smiled and said, "Believe me, you wouldn't have liked it."
"I wouldn't have gone to any of the meetings. I would've just been there, cozy, walking around. I'd have dinner ready for you at the end of your day of meetings."
"Dinner was provided."
"You should've invited me. We've been talking for long enough."
I said, "We've never met before today. I think it would've been inappropriate for me to take you on an overnight thing, just the two of us, let alone with me and 50 coworkers."
"I would've invited you," she went on, "If it was me, you'd have totally been invited. 'Come with me to a pretty place where you can stroll around all day,' I'd have said."
I replied, "Let's move on. We're in a pretty place right now," I said, referring to the lovely park in which we walked.
"This place?" Julia stopped and looked around. "This place is a trash heap. Like my parents. Any other kernels of wisdom you want to share from your super-secret retreat? God, I can't stand people like you."
Surprised and hurt, I nonetheless replied, "Then why are you still hanging around here? You can go at anytime."
"I will!" she snapped, "I'll go to a pretty, super-secret meeting place of my own! I'll have as many meetings as I want or don't want to have there!"
She pushed past me and strode away, leaving me winded, confused, but ultimately grateful that she unleashed the crazy so soon.
Julia and I spoke online for a while before we met in person, mostly because I had to go on a work-related retreat for nine days, which prevented us from meeting up as soon as I would have liked.
When we did finally meet up for the first time, in a local city park, she was full of questions: How did the retreat go? (Well.) What was emphasized? (Leadership and building trust with consumers - yawn.) How many people went? (50.) Did I think it was a good thing for the 50 of us to go through? (Not really. A half-hour meeting would have imparted the same wisdom.) And so on and so on.
As we walked, she asked me a few more questions about the retreat, then finally asked, "Did anyone bring their significant others?"
"No," I replied, "It was for company employees only, and I don't think that any significant others would've wanted to go. The whole affair was meeting after meeting in a pretty place."
"I probably would've liked it," Julia said, with acid in her tone, "I mean, if I was invited."
I smiled and said, "Believe me, you wouldn't have liked it."
"I wouldn't have gone to any of the meetings. I would've just been there, cozy, walking around. I'd have dinner ready for you at the end of your day of meetings."
"Dinner was provided."
"You should've invited me. We've been talking for long enough."
I said, "We've never met before today. I think it would've been inappropriate for me to take you on an overnight thing, just the two of us, let alone with me and 50 coworkers."
"I would've invited you," she went on, "If it was me, you'd have totally been invited. 'Come with me to a pretty place where you can stroll around all day,' I'd have said."
I replied, "Let's move on. We're in a pretty place right now," I said, referring to the lovely park in which we walked.
"This place?" Julia stopped and looked around. "This place is a trash heap. Like my parents. Any other kernels of wisdom you want to share from your super-secret retreat? God, I can't stand people like you."
Surprised and hurt, I nonetheless replied, "Then why are you still hanging around here? You can go at anytime."
"I will!" she snapped, "I'll go to a pretty, super-secret meeting place of my own! I'll have as many meetings as I want or don't want to have there!"
She pushed past me and strode away, leaving me winded, confused, but ultimately grateful that she unleashed the crazy so soon.
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