Moontime & ManHunks

Mi casa is like a morgue this evening as little Snowflake is passed out on the living room floor, exhausted from accompanying me to work today. The excitement of opening the oven, climbing up and standing on it's door over and over and over like a admiral at the helm of a great ship was too much for the little swab. He wore his po'sef out. When the wee pirate wakes I have a nice little nosh of Quinoa, edamame and tomato sauce to quell his hunger. And boobies for his nightcap. Ah, the pirates life.

I had a craving for a Mimosa. Cocktail at my side I hit connect on my dial up modem. After a nice long soak in my spa-like tub, painting my toenails and giving myself a facial, my homepage was just about loaded.

Warm and giddy I headed to yahoo! on a whim to peruse the personals. My inner "wild woman wolf" may have been excited if I were a flannel wearing, F-150 "bad girl who drives bitchin' toys" and has wet dreams about Nascar drivers or plans weekend getaways to Cabela's or Gander Mountain. I know WHY I never do this.

It's the same reason why I have IM's shut permanently off. "moontime" was incredibly persistent and funny. His avatar piqued my interest so I returned his hello. After 2o minutes of pleasantries ol' Moony just couldn't tell me enough how he just LOVED "moontime". In fact, he was obsessed with it.

When he asks me if I know what it is, I'm thinking it's like a fall harvest hippie kind of thing... full moons, whatever. WRONG! Turns out "moontime" is every chicks worst week of the month...aka the dreaded period. And then he mentions something about having one BIG red eyebrow as often as he can and loving it, REALLY loving it.

It was like being at the end of a really long, striped hallway hearing the reeee, reeee, reeee of the movie Psycho. This is the Freakish Disappointment that always turns me off. Just when you think it might be okay to jump in the pool, something is floating toward you and it is NOT a Baby Ruth.

Back at yahoo! a 36 year old single athletic man in my area wants a potential female to "check her baggage at the door". His photo: a picture of him shirtless turned to the camera at a strange blurred angle. This makes him appear as though he has only one front tooth that juts out at a weird angle or he's been smacked down ala "Deliverance". He is unshaven and he is definitely not smiling. He's probably thinking this was Brad Pitt sexy. I'm thinking potential ax murderer.

My top match for compatibility according to yahoo! is a 32 year old who wants me to "release the biker within me." I dig Vespas. Wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, glasses, sporting a mullet and furry 'stache, he claims his "ideal women would be someone who is confident & sexy, comfortable, social, athletic & energetic." Either he subconciously wants a three-or-moresome or he's looking for a lady to bust him out of his mom's basement and give him a break from his internet porn habit.

In 2005 shirtless with mullet is just so everyday to me. These are the male denizens of my community. Yet they almost beg to be retro. These chaps look so much older than they claim to be. Maybe it's just that they're so furry. I can't see the "real" them, literally. That combined with a cultural affinity for binge drinking makes Ms. Mamma happy to be at home with Snowflake on a quiet Friday night.

I think I'll have another Mimosa.


personals, red necks, single mama, vespa, moon time