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I also have an unhealthy obsession with Corey Hart and or George Jones.

Issue Date: Monday, Aug. 21, 2006

You know you’ve been gone from your journal for a while when you have to actually look at the last entry written to see what the hell you were babbling about. I also had to delete at least three failed attempts to put together something coherent.

Lately I have also taken to leaving myself messages on my work voicemail with random thoughts just to get past them and get the thoughts out of my head… and also (fingers crossed) as fodder for new journal entries. The messages are as odd and disjointed as my thought process is at the time.

Picture this: Driving the hoopty in 106 degree heat that has rendered the inside of the car a balmy eleventy hundred degrees and the steering wheel a veritable cornucopia of unpleasant sensations, namely the BURNING of my hands! Oh Lord, the BURNING! Massive traffic. Radio turned to Jack FM or 101 WRR (???) and calling aunts and uncles and then myself and leaving shit like this (see link below) on my answering machine.

Anyway, I am just trying to pimp out by attempting to download this voice message so you guys can be privy to the grammatical raping and constant uhm’s and uhhh’s and the dead air and … oh, yes, AND the lateral lisp. Ya’ll should hear me say sassafras. It is precious.
I give thee…
the voice mail in question.

You may have to jack with it a bit to get it to play, or download the file… or, or, or… I don’t know. It really isn’t all that important.

The whole point was this; I love ya’ll. I have been trying to sit down a write a little diddy just for you. Yes, just for you. But instead I have been leaving myself messages that may as well be in Sanskrit for all they do to jolt that perfect idea I had at the time of message leaving.

So let’s put some of these messages together and try to give you a sound entry, shall we?

I’d like to discuss the message left from the link above, it was a great idea about publishing a ‘Dating Guide for the Single Girl’ type of book. I wanted to make sure that women knew some of the secret language of dating.

I found out some of these things the hard way… especially since I was culling the herd (and then dating the culls) with some of the quality men I met on the internet.

Within the confines (ha.) of chatting and dating online you will run into profiles and sadly enough people who lie. And I am not talking about the obvious high school photos that are being sent out as current pics. I am talking about the men who say the following to you over a course of how ever long it takes for him to talk you into meeting him somewhere in public. It is normally the man’s preference that you are not holding an active can of mace and the leash of an attack dog named Cujo… with Cujo attached to the leash when the first meeting actually occurs.

Men will try to disarm (hopefully, not physically) a woman with words. They will tell you all about themselves and their hopes, dreams and aspirations. They will tell you about their job history and they will tell you about their children and their soon-to-be ex wives whom they haven’t seen in months.

They will say things like, “I am really just looking for a close friendship and someone I can hang out with.” The translation for this is simple, “I am really just looking for some casual sex with someone who may be cool to play air hockey with and whom I will not feel obligated to call every day because, hey… we’re just friends, right?”

I want to help women with the translation for certain terms certain things that should throw red flags and would normally except most women who chat online and date men from IRC are drunks.

I was.


No, seriously.

Don’t go away. Put down the Arizona Green Tea and Stoli and let’s talk a little.

Let me just give you a few words of advice. I started chatting on IRC when I was like 27 and put up profiles in and yahoo personals, and who knows what else when I moved back to Dallas after my divorce.

I learned a few things over the years. Hopefully you will find them useful.

If a man you met online tells you, “I am separated.” You can almost bet on the fact that his wife is in the other room nursing a baby… or bourbon and thinks that her darling husband is just playing John Madden or some online blackjack.

If a man you met online tells you or if you see anywhere in his profile, “I am just such a passionate person.” This actually means, “I was housed in a correctional facility for my ‘passion’ when I was in my early forties.” Or better yet, “I am so passionate that I will smother you with love. And not in a good way.” Stalker.

If a man you met online tells you that he is very earthy and in touch with nature you can be pretty sure that he probably smells like Kim chi and if you are lucky? High Karate.

If he also says that he is extremely aware of the environment, this is basically him saying, “Yanno, I am too cheap to have my own transportation. I also have a class issue and refuse to use public transportation, would you mind picking me up to take me to work? And just so you know, later when I am drinking my dark ale… my righteous indignation will be fodder for a drunken cry (complete with sobbing and a lot of snot) because I am so passionate about… life, man.”

If a man you met online tells you that he is extremely affectionate this may mean that he won't get out of your car and you will have to drive to the police department to have him physically removed.

If a man you met online tells you that he is absolutely positive that the government is out to get him, three words… Mel Gibson - Conspiracy. Seriously. Check it out. I dated that guy.

And my favorite of all times… if a man you met online tells you that he wants to move to Dallas because the job market is better and, “Can I stay with you for just a few days? Seriously, I will get my own place in like three days tops.” What he really means is (and ya’ll… I fell for this shit twice. Twice. (Oh, shit… almost three times) Ya’ll know.), “I want to come and stay with you because I am financially retarded and you need to take care of me. Mommy? Is that you? Where’s the food? Also, can you put a down payment on a car for me to have repossessed in about a month and a half? Oh, and then? Then… I want you to either get so tired of me you run me off or put a down payment on an apartment, rent a U-Haul, go get my shit and physically move me yourself. And, I also have an unhealthy obsession with Corey Hart/George Jones.”

I think a book like this would be a hit. We could put it under the Self Help section and title it something like, “The Stupid Shit that Susan Did. Don’t Make the Same Mistakes.”

Well, really, my whole journal could be testimony to that. No?


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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