Let me make this clear: I don’t have a problem with dating a divorced man. No problem at all.
What I do have a problem with is when a divorced man isn’t up front about it.
Menfolk of the world, I’m going to lay down some real talk right now: if your online dating profile doesn’t disclose that you are divorced, the moment you explain you are really “divorced” and not just “single,” I immediately think you are acting shady. Even if you weren’t trying to hide it! Even if you just married her so she could get a green card! Even if you have been divorced so long you’ve forgotten her middle name! Keep reading »
I think Mary Kay Beckman wins the award for the worst online date of all time. We complain about our online dates with weirdos and shitbirds (there have been a lot), but we’ve got nothing on her awful date. The 50-year-old real estate agent is suing Match.com for $10 million because her date tried to kill her. After a week of dating, Wade Ridley tried to stab her to death. “He broke into my garage … When the police arrested him, he said he wasn’t there to hurt me. He was there to kill me. His intent was to kill me that night.” Ridley stabbed Beckman 10 times with a butcher knife, and when the knife broke, he stomped on her head. Keep reading »
Earlier this morning, I was reading a piece on How About We’s blog The Date Report about men who are “serial daters” thanks to the ease of online dating web sites. Blogger Justin Rocket Silverman wrote about a piece in The Atlantic by Dan Slater called “A Million First Dates” which argues that online dating allows people the ability to act like kids in a candy store. Some men feel they can easily discard women or brush off getting dumped , because there’s always the chance someone “better” is waiting for them online (AKA “Bigger-Better Syndrome”). Keep reading »
Most daters tend to want as much information as possible when they walk into a room to meet someone. But OKCupid is banking on the idea that information is actually getting in the way. There’s no denying that dating online is a bonafide “thing” now, but some wonder how much it actually results in people meeting their match. After all, users can spends weeks or months communicating with a potential match without actually ever meeting up. OKCupid co-founder Sam Yagan wants to change all that — he believes people should spend more time dating and less time talking. So the company decided to relaunch an old blind dating app they created several years ago — now called Crazy Blind Date — which uses highly protected OKCupid algorithims to match daters with similar interests.
But would you use it?
Keep reading »
For as long as we’re aware of other people’s dirty bits and sexual desires, we’re aware of how funny it can be to talk about them. My niece, for instance, thinks that “butt” is the funniest word in the English language. But she’s six. The grown-up version of “Ha ha, butt!” are those conversations — either whispered sotto voce or way-too-loud after a few too many cocktails — about other people’s personal lives, particularly the parts we’re not supposed to know. She did what? He wanted to put his thingy where? Oh my God. EW.
I’m not above finding the TMI details of other people’s private lives fascinating. Or sharing my own. Hey, the dude who wanted to lock me inside a dog cage and pee on me makes for an interesting story. (Hopefully he has found someone less claustrophobic to fulfill that pecadillo.) It satisfies the same morbid curiosity that wants to see celebrity nude pics. We want to know what other people are packing, I suppose so we can compare it against ourselves.
But there’s a point where a line needs to be drawn. It needs to be drawn hard. We need to stop posting people’s real-life personal, private, sexual information on the Internet for the purpose of mocking or shaming them. Keep reading »
People just love to get engaged at Christmastime. I imagine this is a result of a combination of factors, from feeling more family-oriented than usual (although the holidays have the opposite effect on many of us) to the celebratory atmosphere at large and increased presence of shiny objects generally. I spent Christmas Eve “liking” a whole new host of “Blankety Blank is engaged to Persony Person” updates before heading to sleep in my childhood bedroom with my new-ish husband. Keep reading »
Finding love in this post-Friendster era isn’t easy. Just ask 68-year-old University of North Carolina physics and astronomy professor Paul Frampton, who was recently sentenced to five years of house arrest for transporting a suitcase full of cocaine out of Buenos Aires, Argentina, and into the United States.
What compelled the Oxford-educated scholar to freelance as a drug mule? Well, Frampton was under the impression that this valise full of toot belonged to his online girlfriend, one Denise Milani, who in reality is a bikini model who may or may not hail from some undiscovered Toontown where Rob Liefeld was elected mayor. Frampton believed that if he smuggled the drugs, he would be able to retire to a small cabin located two ticks north of Ms. Milani’s solar plexus.
But when Frampton traveled to Bolivia to meet Milani earlier this year, he was not greeted by his new girlfriend/the letter “P” made human flesh, but by a strange man and an even stranger suitcase (their respective cup sizes went unreported by mainstream media). Read more…
Last night, I did something I thought I’d never do again, especially not on a random Monday evening: I reactivated my online dating profile.
I looked at the description of myself I wrote the last time I was single. I looked at the photos that I had thought best represented myself. I checked my months-old messages. I read the new messages that came in as my account had been re-activiated again. And all the while I thought, Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, what are you doing?
This morning, I deactivated it again. You see, I think I had just wanted instant gratification. Keep reading »
Rare is the woman whose adventures in dating — scratch that, in living — have kept her from a brush with a pickup artist. I guess I’ve got the equivalent of pickup artist herpes because I actually dated one. Well, a former one. Keep reading »