catfish

Anatomy of a liar.

This one really made me angry. Bryon wasn’t a catfish in the traditional sense, but he was fishing for something, with no intent to catch this fish.

I knew he was lying about something, right from the beginning – I will tell you why shortly. But being focussed on that lie prevented me from noticing the other signs of a catfish right away.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing for me is to meet someone who was what I seek. You know, if not for the whole douchebag thing. He was intelligent, accomplished, and interesting. But he was an intellectual bully.

He was also likely married. Or at the very least, nowhere near as single as he professed. Continue reading

catfish

Ann was fooled by a catfish.

Yes. I’m embarrassed to say, but I was catfished. It was only for a 24-hour period, but still. I don’t like making those kinds of mistakes. Well, I don’t like making any mistakes at all, but I’m getting far more comfortable with the large number of romantic mistakes I’ve made and will keep making.

The short duration of our exchange hid some of the red flags. And he was very clever.

Like the last one, his pictures were real. They seemed current. He was in his mid-fifties. He had filled out many questions on OK Cupid and had a full descriptive profile. We had a 95% match percentage.

In other words, nothing seemed off. Continue reading

catfish

They aren’t catfish, Part 2

Part One – being catfished

A couple of days of texting later, I asked whether he wanted to meet for a coffee or drink. He said yes, but he didn’t “really know” where I was. When I said my precise location didn’t matter, he called me “miss spy”. We made plans to meet after work that Friday, and our texting for the next day was perfectly normal.

That was Tuesday.

He didn’t text again.

On Saturday, the day after our supposed date, I texted “what happened to us going out yesterday after work” and he replied the next day “I don’t know, I never heard back you disappeared for two days.” He said he wanted to try again. Continue reading

dumb ways to get a woman back

Alan and the cheese.

I like wine and cheese. Along with kissing, they provide some of my life’s greatest pleasure.

I guess I served Alan some great cheese (not uncommon) because he’s used it as the rationale to reach out to me three times since I broke it off. Well, he used other methods as well to try to see me again, the most memorable being a naked mirror selfie of himself with a hard-on, wearing a Trump mask.

Yes, you read that right.  Continue reading

Evicerating a heart in a few easy steps.

Step 1:

Believe the words a man tells you; that he loves you, that you are unlike anyone else in his life, that although you aren’t going to be intimate anymore he doesn’t want to lose you in his life. Believe he can’t possibly be so deceitful that he’s letting two women think the same thing when it comes to his love and commitment to them. Justify staying intimate with him by telling yourself she can’t possibly believe he’s romantically in love with her.

Step 2:

After you break up for the final time, spend a fair amount of mental calories debating whether to block him from contacting you. Believe he will be the one to reach out. Think about ways you need to be strong to get through the breakup without reverting. Believe he will be the one that suffers more in your absence, than you in his. (Note: this is perhaps dangerously close to hubris)

Step 3: Continue reading

How do we know if we are ready?

The first night I saw Fox after my vacation return, he told me he’d found himself on the Ashley Madison data dump online.

No, don’t worry, this isn’t another post about the whole debacle. I’m tired of it already. And for what it’s worth: of course nobody should violate your privacy rights, yes some people enjoy the misery of cheaters, yes, some people will look people up they know (not always for nefarious reasons), there are hypocrites in this world, and yes, cheaters should always consider what would happen if they are found out.

Moving on. Continue reading

Selfie Sunday | Trying to master morning pics

Nobody complains when I post pictures like this. I’m putting this up because I liked the shot and think I’m getting a little better at these, thanks to the hands on coaching I got from my friend Hy.

And there’s no bruising visible to make anyone worry.

Selfie!

Selfie Sunday | Wherein I learned from the master

Last Sunday morning, I was in Hy‘s living room as she ordered me around:

Stick your ass out.

Move away from the candle.

Don’t hold the phone that way.

Twist to the right. More!

Lower, that’s nice.

Take shots constantly! Continue reading

Selfie Sunday one day early. Steak & Blow Job Day.

I feel sexy. Inspired by the two-plus hours of morning sex, brunch, great coffee, amazing dessert, and a second dessert of fantastic orgasms administered by an awesome man’s hands and a new glass dildo…I thought I would share a pic of a new purchase. 

I provided both steak and blow job before 2pm. Tony is a lucky man.



Popping my Selfie Sunday cherry

I’ve seen some real lusciousness on Sunday these last few weeks, courtesy of some bloggers on the Selfie Sunday bandwagon.

Not sure this will be an ongoing theme here, but I was deleting a bunch of pics on my phone and saw this one – which I sent to a potential lover this week – and thought it might be a good candidate.

Selfie Sunday