And maybe one day, I’ll make a whole blog out of these alone…
28-year-old Anthony, whose profile features a small child I’m assuming to be his son flippin’ the bird Xs 2, writes:
i know we dont know one another but i wanna say u are as beautiful as a goddess with that body of art names anthony and ur eyes and smile is of a angels.so what are u up to? and i bet u are a smart girl too very nice
I hadda read through this one a couple of times to follow. Are my pictures a work of art? Am I alone a work of art? This is the less cocky, trying to mean well attempt. It’s also why everyone should use punctuation. Sigh. Sorry buddy. Denied!
J Gutta writes:
you look very sexy i would like to get to know if it cool with you maybe we can exchange number so we can talk and hook up on day because you look cute and i look cute so what it do holla back sweetheart ps com my pics
I guess he heard that run-on sentences realllly turn me on. Ooh baby, deny!
Alright, this one is definitely a good one. “MrRecession” writes:
hello pretty lady.. I wish I was your pillow, so you could drewl all over me..
Ya like that one? SO I COULD DREWL ON HIM. Hmm, couple of things:
- MrRecession, eh? How’s that handle workin’ out for ya?
- LINE. And not even just A line, but a line that is meant for ME to fawn over YOU. Not entertaining enough to be cocky.
- Spell check. Drool, buddy. You want me to drool on you. Oof, this girl needs a man with good grammar, g.
I know it’s tough ladies, but yet again, I’m gonna have to go with deny– just let me know if you’re interested though. I can certainly see the appeal here.
Name: Danny lee
Friend Request sent. No picture. Message as follows:
dang boo you is sexy
Gee, as much I love profiles with next to no information and friend requests with no intent at even being fake internet friends, Danny lee ain’t my boo tonight. Oh, and PS, while his status is single, his mood is “TAKEN”–apparently, his girlfriend made him his page. V. classy.
hey sweetie..i know someone as cute as you has a full phonebook , but do you think you can try to squeeze my number in?
going with an old classic, eh? hmm… ya can’t just jump right to the phone number because you used both “cute” & “sweetie.” in this case, d is for deny.
I love lame pick up attempts on Myspace. I can’t even say pick up lines, because in many cases, these suitors are lucky if they can formulate a complete sentence, never mind something one might consider a “line.”
I’ve decided that it’s just no fun keeping all of their talk about looking for a “good woman” to myself. From now on, I will post all random messages from men on Myspace hoping to “git to no me”
Today’s message comes from phillip, age 27, and reads:
WHATS UP GIRL IM A PHOTOGRA[HER TRYING TO GET KNOW F INTEREST IN A BOY WHOP LOVES COOKING PIZZAS AN PASTAS HIT ME UP
Wait wait, cooking pizzas AND pastas? Guess ol’ phillip here heard a rumor that women like a man who can cook. That sure is terrific, phillip, but ya know what’s funny about that? Well we seem to live THOUSANDS OF MILES away from each other. Guess I won’t be trying those delicious dishes any time soon. Sorry buddy, without hard evidence of these culinary abilities, I’m gonna have to click “deny”
I think my mom has secret worries about me getting married and having children. And when I say “secret” I mean obvious concerns, most notably when she tells me that she hopes to have grandchildren at an age where she “can still pick them up,” for example.
When I lived in Texas and had to fly back east for holidays, she’d always tease (or perhaps pray) that I’d meet a rich and charming “oil tycoon” aboard the plane who would just whisk me away. Apparently, I would be flying in a plane built by the Wright Brothers as well, but that’s besides the point. My mother has always hoped for a rich, handsome man in my future and probably fears that my feminist and liberal nature will keep me from locking down the type of catch she has in mind.
And so now, after a long-term failed relationship under my belt and no grandchildren bouncing upon her knee, my mother seems to be taking a new approach. This evening, she let me know that oil is out and green energy is in. As a result, she has launched her new “green man” campaign. “You know, one of those green men with the fields,” she says. (It’s classic my mom to only have half of the idea formulated and to fill the rest of the sentence with phrases like “you know” and “that thing”.) No word yet on where or how I’ll find him, but no worries. “He’s out there,” she says. “Just you wait, you’ll see.”
Later on in the conversation, we somehow came upon the topic of ocean windmills. A surprising direction for a chat with my mom to go in considering that we started the hour detailing the ingredients in the clam chowder she and my grandmother made over the weekend (“I know you don’t like clam chowder, but it just wasn’t right the first time we had it. It needed more potatoes and carrots and stuff,” she says.) When I asked a few logistical questions about this new technology (do they float? what’s the cost?), she responded matter-of-factly with, “Well I don’t know, but see–you can ask your green man about it! There’s a conversation starter for you!”
“Ya know what? You’re right, Ma,” I say. “You found a way to bring it back. Thanks.”
Oh sweet windmills, you are the key...