Gad Zoosk!
 

For some reason (probably horny) I decided to join Zoosk. It seemed interesting to me that they look at the types of people you are attracted to and then make suggestions based on that rather than your stated preferences.

So after a week or two on the site and after looking at every member within 100 miles between the ages of 40 and 57, it turns out that the kind of women I like are really into Country music, Adele, Nickelback, NFL, the movie The Notebook, Vin Diesel and a bunch of other, equally dislikable interests.

I think the underlying message is that I actually dislike the type of women who use Zoosk.

I think the underlying message is that you're a closet redneck. :haha:

The internet ratio of normal to batshit insane women is not, repeat not lower than real life.

I'd stick to real life.

It's an hours drive to a town of 27,000 people and what the fuck am I going to do one I'm there?

Fuck that one?

I tried many ways (many, many ways) to date again back in the day.
T'internet wasn't any better than responding to ads in Private Eye (British satirical magazine) or speed dating. The best it got me was some really good meals and some okay company.
People you want to throttle say "You only find love when you're not looking". They're smug bastards who get what's coming to them.

But if you are loveable (not me) then it may be true. Either way, I figure if you put in the time and effort, a bloody good chap like you will be rewarded.

Sundae, you are loveable.

Sent by thought transference

I was kinda hoping you'd figure it out, and then tell me.

I think we are both lovable, but being lovable and feeling lovable are two different things. I find it hard to project a feeling of being lovable when it isn't there.

Damn near impossible when you aren't convinced yourself. If you can do that, you should be selling bridges.

I posted the following in a somewhat different form here on the Cellar years ago. It seems so apropos that I'm reposting the new, updated story on this this thread. I swear, the more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm sure you'll have better luck than I did, Foot. There's lots of different dating sites on the Net and in your posts you come across as a pretty decent person.

Here you go (sorry for the length):

Still Desperately Seeking



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wander off to various places around the Net, and I’d like to report one of my experiences out there in Internet land as a cautionary tale for any of you who may be thinking of growing old.

It started innocently enough with a visit to Face Book to play Scrabble. Face book tends to baffle me and I’m not that excited about accumulating a list of 300+ “friends” or leaving a cryptic message on someone’s wall. However, you can sometimes pick up a rousing game of Scrabble there, so I do not ignore Face book completely.

Anyhow, I recently visited the Scrabble page only to become distracted by the admonition, “Meet your cowboy! Join Senior People Meet.com.” I immediately had an image of riding off into the sunset with Walter Brennan, but my curiosity overcame my morbid imagination. Besides, I am 63 and live in a dinky, isolated town where all the good men in my age group are either taken or dead. I wanted to see if the same was true in the rest of the world.

Of course, SPM being part of the Face Book military/industrial complex, I had to pay up to do much of anything on the site. The sign up screen offered a month’s worth of browsing silver foxes for only $14.00. I figured the entertainment factor alone would be worth $14.00, so I punched in the info from my credit card. Immediately, the message came back that with fines, fees, penalties and assessments, my card had been charged $18.00. ****ers. But I let it go.

For the purpose of my research, I decided to be as honest as any other reasonable senior. I posted a current picture in my profile, rather than the cute one taken 10 years ago. I admitted to “a few extra pounds.” But I decided that since some of my fellow geezers might have weak hearts, I’d leave the scary stuff out of my profile – just another nice old lady still looking for her prince – that was me.

Ladies, I’m here to tell you that age does not improve a guy’s pick up lines, ignorant attitudes, or down right arrogance. Every since the early day of Internet match-making, I have become instantly irritated with guys who like “long walks on the beach” and “snuggling by the fire.” You see these lines in about half the male profiles on any dating site. Even guys from Nebraska like long walks on the beach and guys from Hawaii like snuggling by the fire.

Do all you men out there get together at the bar and exchange tips? “Write that you love to walk on the beach. She’ll think you’re a real sensitive guy,” Bubba tells Billy Joe. Then they both s****** and belch loudly. Guys, guys, guys – listen up! Women HATE long walks on the beach – especially on a date. We have to remove our favorite heels, so they don’t get ruined by salt and sand. Then we soldier on grimly as the sand wears holes in the feet of our panty hose. And WHAT was that slimy thing I just stepped on?

And “snuggling by the fire” is a phrase included by men who completely lack originality and who would much prefer to be out on the lake fishing, but lack the courage to reveal this to potential soul-mates. I would rather read about a guy’s pet tarantula collection than snuggling by the fire. At least tarantulas are interesting in a certain disgusting way. And they are certainly evidence of a possibly zany outlook on life.

Anyhow, I posted my profile alongside those of about 100 other senior ladies from Colorado who all mysteriously appeared to be closer to 16 than 60. Everyone go buy stock in Botox companies NOW. The baby boomer ladies are getting OLD and they’re going to show up on a dating site on a computer near you. I decided to leave off sizing up the competition – it was too depressing. Instead, I clicked through the men’s profiles, sizing up potential victims err soul mates.
I am pleased to report that my own personal version of Murphy’s Law remains in effect. The silver foxes whose pictures and profiles made my little heart go pitter pat ignored all my attempts at getting their attention. My “flirts” and messages were all ignored by the foxes. On the other hand, every crazy or oddball or mental defective who ever crawled out of the sewers of the Internet bombarded me with attention. They didn’t bother to read my profile because they were on a MISSION, or else they needed cataract surgery so they could see to read again. One wanted to know if I spoke in tongues. (Only when I’ve been off my meds for several weeks and that hasn’t happened for a while now). One sent me a laconic message of just one line, “Had 10 bikes and never broke a bone.” Harleys? Schwinns? Was there some deeper message here? I decided there was – early onset Alzheimer’s.

A lot of guys sent me a “flirt” but when I checked out their profiles, they read “Will tell you later. Send message.” Right. Were these guys lazy or arrogant or both? I’m the one with a page long profile and I’m supposed to reveal even more while they remained shrouded in mystery? Maybe they have arthritis in their hands which prevents them from typing. Or maybe they’re serial killers who don’t want to fess up just yet.

My trial month isn’t up yet, but I’m beginning to think that the old ladies who live by themselves in a house full of cats may be wiser than they are generally given credit for. In fact, maybe I’ll try posting my cat’s picture for a while. I’d still get all those flirts from the elderly gentlemen with cataracts. “I can tell you are my soul mate. You have such big green eyes and a cute little pink nose. I’d love to take you for a long walk on the beach and snuggle by the fire afterward. Please reply soon. My doctor doesn’t give me much time.”

(dedicated to the xoxoBruce - still)

The reason guys write that, is because they overhear, or read, chicks dig it, and it's something he's willing to do if it'll get him laid.

Long walks? Not unless I'm forced at gunpoint. Beach? Hot, sticky sand, sunburn, rotting fish, hate it.
Cuddle by a fire? Better be Carlos Castaneda quality organics, and be wearing something soft.


Yeah dude, tell her you like a long walk on the beach and a cuddle by a fire, bitches swoon for that. :rolleyes:

That's it, in a nutshell.

FTR, I do love walking on beaches, and real fires.
Limey gave me both on Arran, AND let me stroke her pussy...
cats
(sorry, terrible smut, not even remotely clever).

But if I was looking, and a man's profile said, "Let's just meet up and eat. No beaches, no fires, no strings attached. You can decide afterwards if we should fuck" I'd be on it like white on rice. Just because I like intelligence, wit and originality.

By the time I was weeping into my fifth tequila about when Diz died he might cut his losses and escape out of the window of the Gents of course. There's only so much punishment a man can take in pursuit of punani.

Beaches are boring, so if I'm on one, I usually go for a short stroll down it. Better than just sitting there in the sun. As a teenager, I would go for long walks down the beach just to look at the scenery, if you catch my drift. But women probably don't want to hear that from a guy who is courting them.

I. Would. Love. to hear you pronounce that word.

:)

I shall whisper it in your ear, the day you cook for me and give me kittens...