In previous posts, I've mentioned some of my disturbing contacts from the free dating site, Plenty of Fish. I said I was done with internet dating sites, and I meant it. I'm burnt out on conversing with horny dillholes. However, I haven't taken my profile off the site yet, because the messages I get are such FABULOUS blog-fodder that I can't bring myself to cut it off completely. I just sit back, relax, and read the asinine messages that roll in. Like this one from earlier today:
hi can i chat with you, dont worry i will get a vasectomy so i will never ever get you pregnant ok, now can we chat.
The grammer nazi that I am isn't going to go into the horrific run-on sentence this is, or it's use of incorrect punctuation. The fact is that a man I've never talked to, MUCH LESS EVEN MET, has offered me the "gift" of his vasectomy.
Has 21st century wooing evolved into offering a snipped vas deferens? Call me old-fashioned, but I'd rather just be given a bunch of daisies. Yeah, thanks.