Adventures in Bating (Bad Online Dating) Part 3

Well gang, it has been real but it’s time for the third and final installment in Bating. It is now March, I am leaving the past two months behind me, perhaps a little wiser, but more than anything I am perplexed.

When I was 14 or 15, my friends and I would walk down the street to 711 for some snacks. I would say that 4 out of 5 times we did this we were always honked at my some filthy 1984 Ford filled with middle aged landscapers. REALLY? First of we are 14, have fun in prison you creepy rapist, and two, do you really think that is how you get women to drop their panties? If the best way to get a date or get laid was honking at women from the side of road then there would not be online dating. In fact, movie and restaurant revenues would drop cause who needs to take a girl out when the key to their hearts is the sound “la cucaracha” from a low-rider El Camino?

Why do I tell this little anecdote? Because that same disgusted feeling I got from being vehicular harassed at 14 I get when I go to check my Match.com messages and it’s all 40+ year olds with molester mustaches asking me if I would be interested in going for an older man.  Listen you pathetic shitheads, if I was interested in guys my Dad’s age I would have stated so or I would probably be on another website that would require me to pay $2.99 a minute for hot greybeard fetish shit. Bleh…

ANYWAY…It’s March and I must admit I’m a little pessimistic now.  I roll back on my reaching out to potential matches as I have come to realize that apparently the type of guy I’m into is not into me (LUCKY ME!). Maybe I need to wear oversized glasses with no lenses and a gross polygamy bun on the top of my head. Apparently it’s an atrocity to look nice and curl your hair in Portland.

March: Part III

“International Week”

I have two dates with two different guys from two different countries of origin in one week.  I dub this week, International Week!

I go on a date with “Taj”. Taj is from India. He is very good looking but has fallen victim to an Axe Body Spray bath. Taj speaks English very well, but extremely fast and with a very thick accent.  I  have to admit I do a lot of smiling and nodding. We go out for a beer. He has not been in Portland very long and informs me of all the ways he is meeting people, through Match and through a group called “Meet-up.” I like that he is being pro-active but something is off. I agree to go on a second date with him, but when I offer to go out and do something he suggests a quiet night with a movie. I’m reluctant as I don’t typically invite people over to my apartment on a second date but I go with it. He brings over Riesling (ummm okay), all I have to watch is Human Centipede 2. He pees with the door open (ummmm oooookaaay) then as we are watching the movie he lays down on my couch then throws this legs over mine like we have been a couple for years (ummmmmmmmm wtf?) We have to change the movie because he can’t handle my obscure movie selection (NOTE TO READERS: Mouth to Anus Horror drives people away! Use it as on out on your next blind date!). At the end of the night I yawn really obnoxiously and over the top which is code for “get the fuck out.” My apartment reeked of Axe for days I swear!

I go on a date with “Fjord.” No he not a majestic snowy mountain in Norway but a super duper tall guy from Germany. I’m stoked because I get to wear my tall shoes. He is pretty hot from the pictures I see and I get all dolled up. When I see him the first time, I get really nervous which never happens and I just wanted to melt into a puddle of disgrace after I did really awesomely embarrassing first date things:

1)      I shook his hand (ARG! I think he was going in for a side hug and I SHOOK his hand! Great I just announced to the world that I am on a first date).

2)      I ask “Do you come here often?” (REALLY? I used an awful pick up line as a sentence? FML.)

Fjord informs me is getting over a cold and probably won’t stay long (Oh fucking great, he is also probably also gonna tell me he wants to move back to Alaska to body build or some shit). I think we have a nice time. He is interesting and kinda dreamy. I ask after our date if he wants to hang again, he says yes, but I can tell he is full of shit. The next week when I send the offer text, it is declined with “I think you are really funny but I did not feel that initial spark I was looking for.” This is code for, go join the clown academy fatty.” Trust me, I speak pretentious German.

As March draws to a close I realize that Match.com has an awful glitch. Every day you get an obscene amount of “daily matches.” Normally 1 out of 16 is worth contacting. The daily matches are made worse by the fact that the system matches you with people you have already interacted with. Thanks Match, I really wanted to be reminded that “that guy” did not work out, or that I totally ignored “that guy’s” texts. Why don’t you rub some shit in my face along with the uncomfortable reminders of online dating failure.

March 31^st hits. Match asks me 8 different ways if I’m sure that I am ready to leave. I can’t hit the “yes, cancel my subscription” button fast enough.  Here are the three main lessons I learned from online dating: 

1)      Whatever height a guy says he is, subtract 2-3 inches;

2)      Always make sure there is a super close up picture and a “current” full body picture of your date (if a man can’t tell if you just died your hair from blonde to black he does not know how to eyeball his own height/weight);

3)      No times out of 10 you will make it past the second date;

4)      If you are 5’11 or taller, your fucked, it’s a short girls market;

5)      Always  show up 5 minutes late (you don’t want to be the ass sitting by yourself looking like you just lost your cat).

In conclusion, I hope you all enjoyed Bating (Bad Online Dating). I hope you had as much fun reading them as I did writing them and if you are out there in the totally effed world of Bating yourself, I salute you.  For me, I’m off to Christian Mingle.com….ha ha yeah right. God speed ladies and gents.

Adventures in Bating (Bad Online Dating) Part 2

Welcome to Part Deux of Bating! An exciting adventure through the trials and tribulations of judging people based off a series of boring and inane questions! Do like Dogs? Yes! Thumbs  up! Do you have Dogs? No… Thumbs down !


As I enter into February, I am still on Match.com.  While in January I was more passive and waited for people to message me, I decide to take a new approach of contacting people first.  This is when I get my first taste of online rejection. I write to a few choice hotties looking all adventurous n’ shit , but alas, they too are “all peak and no speak” to quote short butt-hurt guy from last month. While I think that I have a great deal in common with the contacted hotties, I come to the conclusion that I have a deal breaker in my profile. Are you ready? I DON’T SNOWBOARD! I know right? Someone better take me out back and shoot me because HOW can I live in Oregon and not live to jump out of bed  at 5 am every fucking weekend, drive up a hazardous icy road, spend 200 bones on lift tickets, water resistant puffy pants and god knows what else just to put myself in a situation where I could potentially suffocate to death in an avalanche? Then drive back down that frigid windy, slippery as fuck road that no doubt has 1,000 foot cliff drop off to one side with no guardrail? Nah I’m cool, I’m from the desert yo! Don’t judge me!


Part II: February
I go on two dates with a guy named “Larry”. I like Larry, he comes from a similar situation— we both ended relationships at the beginning of the year and figured, hey why not jump back into the dating scene rather than eat ice cream and Cheetos in the dark while simultaneously crying to Meat Loaf and Journey songs (CHOKING HAZARD!). We have a great first outing. I actually get compliments! For those of you men unfamiliar with the word “compliment” Websters defines it as formal or respectful recognition. Try it out sometime! Larry and I go out on second date and have another great time, “Wow” I think, “this could be fun!” But oh oh, Larry falls ill with Imayhavejumpedintodatingtoofastocondria. I tell him we can take it slow, that we are by no means in a relationship. Unfortunately this worsens his condition and he falls ill with Iforgothowtousemyphoneitis, a very common sickness in men scared to death of commitment. Therefore, Larry and I did not work out. Damn and he was hot too! Oh well…


I go on a date with a guy named “Barry.” Barry and I actually talk on the phone a few times before we set up a meeting. This is unheard of these days, you know, real phone conversations that last longer then , “Hey. What time? Okay. Bye.” He sounds unique, but his schedule sounds a little crazy. We meet up for a happy hour on a Friday. Dang he is hot too! Two in a row? Too good to be true? Yes unfortunately.  We have some great conversation, he tells me he is slightly embarrassed to be doing online dating which is understandable; I am too to some extent. We have two drinks then he announces that he as an early Saturday and he needs to go. I stand up, “Wow you are tall!” he remarks but probably not in a good way. I know this is not a good sign. He walks me to my car, I go home way too early for a Friday. The following week I ask if he would like to meet again and the text I essentially get is “I want to focus on work and exercise and am not really interested in doing this whole Match thing. I’m going to move back to Alaska.”  My mind immediately points to my online dating flaw, the snowboarding! I said I didn’t snow board! I let the guy repellant slip! I say nice meeting you. The next month I get my “daily matches” and he pops up on there.  Not into Match anymore huh? Glad I did not go out with that liar again.


I go on a date with a guy name “Perry.” Perry only has one picture on the site, but it looks decent enough, plus it says he is like 6’5. YES! We exchange a few texts and agree to go out for a beer. All I gotta say is I’m real glad I had just come from a party where I had had like 6 mimosas cause Perry’s picture did not include one thing that was very apparent on him in person. HIS HUGE ASS 1920’s BARBERSHOP QUARTET MUSTACHE! Which would have maybe worked if he were wearing hipster clothes, but he was wearing like ,jock clothes! It was the epitome of “one of these things is not like the other one, one of these things does not belong.” We had a few beers, he ordered two dinners, not because he was fat but because apparently he still eats like a growing teenager.  He can actually hold a conversation which is nice but I’m too focused on the delicately beeswax soaked curled ends of his ridiculous facial hair. I call it a night at 9 p.m. , cause let’s face it, I have been drinking since 11 a.m. and I don’t actually want to convince myself that kissing him would be a good idea because his manicured face drape would probably rip my mouth off. I don’t call him again.


At the end of February I am feeling a little defeated. I only have one more month left on my self-imposed Bating deadline and so far it turns out people are kinda untrustworthily b-holes. But I still keep the faith alive. Little do I know March has all kinds of weird shit in store for me!


Stay tuned for Part III: March, where you get to learn all about “International Week”!

Adventures in "Bating" (Bad Online Dating) Part 1

As some of you may or may not know, this past January, after I was dumped on New Year’s Eve for apparently being an aspiring yuppie who watched too many movies on Sunday, I decided to,  once and for all try my hand at online dating.  My foray lasted 3 months, a self imposed timeline I gave myself to see if all the hype was true, or if the nightmare was in fact a living one.


Since then some of “you” have mentioned that I should/should have blogged about it a la SJP in Sex in the City, cause let’s face it, I’m way funnier than Carrie Bradshaw. At first I rejected the idea, but now in retrospect I realize that I was afraid of hurting the feelings of people I was never going to see again and frankly that was retarded of me. So without further ado, here is my rundown  in three parts by month, of the shit show that is online dating.  Names have been changed to protect the innocent.


Part 1: January


I pay for Match.com, why? Because for some inane reason I feel that if you have to pay for it that means it has higher quality or something like that? Right? Oh was I wrong….


I realize right away that men opt for “distant body shots” rather than close ups of the face. Why is this troubling? I want to see if you have bad teeth not a reverse mirror shot of your abs taken with your iphone. 


I put a height restriction on my profile. This does not stop short dudes from leaving super inappropriate pleas to get me to talk to them. “C’mon baby, height doesn’t matter when we are lying down in bed together!”  I don’t respond to these because I am too busy trying to get the puke out of my mouth.  Additionally, I also  thought I would save myself the headache of  responding to emails of people I don’t think would be a good fit for me (People are alerted when others view their profile)by not replying at all . Apparently this is just an atrocity because I get more emails with gems like “All peak and no speak?” Really Dude? Do you really want me to send you a rejection email? I think the fact that I did not respond is obvious enough but if you really want me to put into words how I really disliked the fact that you have been divorced three times and how I think it’s really tacky that your main photo is you pursing your lips on your Ducati then yes, I will waste 5 minutes of my life making you feel like shit.


I go on two dates with a guy named “Boyd.” Boyd is nice but I lead all the conversations. He smiles and nods a lot, I feel like Fran Dresser, all aggressive n’ shit. He is a truck driver so he is out of town two weeks a month. I see that this is probably why he has a hard time meeting chicks. I’m not really that upset when he does not call again though he did have some good stories about prostitutes running back and forth at truck stops holding their high heels. He assured me he had never been with a prostitute because after hearing shit like that, I had to ask.


I go on one date with a guy named “Floyd.” Floyd and I email quite a bit before meeting, he sounds smart and witty but I’m worried that all of his photos are “distant body shots.” On the day of our date I check out the website where he is a sports writer because I’m stealthy like that.  I see a closer up photo, I’m now slightly worried. Upon meeting him I see that he has fibbed with about his height. He is not awful looking but he has extremely feminine hands. We have nice time but I feel like if I ever hit his hand too hard they would shatter all over the floor and frankly, porcelain dolls have always given me the creeps.


I go on one date with a guy named “Lloyd.”  First thing out of his mouth is “wow you are tall!” I will continue to hear this over the next few months which frightens me because apparently I am going out on dates with people that do not know how to read. I have a nice enough time with Lloyd. He is kind a geeky but handsome, he is from Wisconsin and I try REALLY HARD not to make fun of his accent. He unfortunately  has also fibbed a bit about his height. Lloyd wants to get crunk so we do, he buys me beers I cannot possibly finish on a Wednesday but its a fun night nevertheless. I go home after but we never talk again.


At the end of January I am feeling slightly good about this online dating thing. Sure nothing has worked out yet, but the year is still young right? We will find out how wrong I am, next time on Czek This Shit Out!
Stay tuned for Part 2: February—oh la la!

"Have My Babies God Dammit!"

Another season of America’s most fraudulent way to find love is upon us, yes the Bachelorette has started! As with every season, the ladies and I join together to heckle and judge the shit out of every contestant and of course, the Bachelorette herself. Emily Maynard looks like a Barbie Doll so I can’t wait for her to lose her shit on one of these guys. By the looks of them, the new contestant standard for the show is that your neck needs to be twice the size of your head.

Last night was the second episode of the season and “Team Wino” was in full form. Typical show format has us viewing two one-one dates sandwiched between the oh so awkward group date, where everyone smarms and hisses at each other in an attempt to impress Emily whose favorite saying is, “I’m so excited!” but said in the most non-amused dullsville way possible.

Last night Emily choose to go on a one-on-one date with Gerber (real name, oh shit I forgot to care!) We originally started calling Gerber, Baby Hair because we were all severely perplexed by the shape of his head and as to why his hair looked so fucked up. We were all pretty bummed that Emily had a nice time with Gerber. Gerber loved the shit out of his date because he got to eat cookies and slurp on juice boxes cause what Gerber Baby would not like that?

Next up was the group date which consisted of about 15 of the guys hanging out with some of the Muppets to do a show to raise money for some foundation , for now we will just call it “Children’s Sickness Foundation” and no that is not a branch off of  NAMBLA. One of Team Wino’s least favorite contestants , Carmex (Kalan) was of course not on this date as we are sure that helicopter riding male Courtney clone will be getting some one on one action soon.  It’s okay though, he got a pretentious fatherly lecture from (Dead) Shark Eyes aka Doug “I’m the Single Dad so I’m better than all of you.” Shark Eyes eventually layed off Carmex mostly because the glare coming off Carmex’s botoxed lips was too blinding for Shark Eyes tiny pupils to handle. I’m glad someone is keeping Carmex in business. ANYWAY back to the group date where sweet as pie Charlie admitted to Emily that he was deathly afraid of public speaking (STUTTER ALERT!) We think it is a result of traumatic brain injury he talked about in the first episode. He is just a big softly with a heart of gold and a face full of metal.  Then there is this Stevie guy who is so unappealing we does not even deserve one of Team Wino’s sweet nicknames. If the Situation and one of those girls from Jerseylicious had a baby and that baby took a shit, that shit would still be more appealing than this Stevie guy. Overall the group date as not as awkward as we all hopped.

Emily’s next one on one date was with Joe. Joe did not get a nickname either mostly because he could not put a finger on who the fuck he looked like, all I could see was a whole lotta neck.  He got sent home pretty much because he did not blurt out “I want you to have my babies Emily!

Later on for the final mixer before the rose ceremony Emily made skater boy Yeph (Jef) open up a bit and he got a rose, another thing this guys needs is stop styling his hair like Tilda Swinton. Yikes! Gerber wrote Emily a sappy seven page letter that he made her read out load right as Beavertron (Tony) walked into the room. That shot was totes AWKWARD! But he stuck it out and looked around nervously like he was actually masto-ing to the whole thing quietly in a dark corner. He is also getting brownie points from Emily because he is also a single Dad but not nearly a big a dick as Shark Eyes is.

In a devastating turn of events Emily sent home one of our ponies that we picked to win, the hot science teacher (Aaron) I think it is because she did not like his hipster glasses. Its okay Aaron come to Portland, ladies be on that hot nerd shit here like washed up bachelorettes on Bartells and James.

Fuck You Rachel McAdams

First off, you are super hot, like, you are my girl crush. Your smile is all enchanting n’ shit and you pretty much get away with any hair color. Blonde? Nailing it! Redhead? Hottie! Brunette? Mysterious!

On top of having a banging body you have pretty much played opposite every bone-able stud in Hollywood, in particular in films where they are all swooning over you (your character, whatever) and would pretty much eat shit if it meant being able to be with you.

Case in Point!

The Notebook:  If you don’t even like this movie a little bit I’m sure your heart is made of a wad of poisonous snakes that when ripped out of your cold chest fall to the ground and disintegrate into a pile of black flame.  Ryan “I’m so hot I turn homophobes gay” Gosling  rebuilds a decrypted mansion for Rachel because they almost effed in their once in hopes of beckoning her back into his sexy man arms. Oh ! Did I mention he writes her a letter EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR A WHOLE YEAR? Seriously Nicholas Sparks, I don’t know what planet you are from but if you could please direct me to the galaxy where men actually do shit like that, I would like to take a film crew there to bring back proof to earth. Rachel’s only obstacle in this movie is dealing with her mean rich as fuck parents, a small hurdle if you ask me. Why you gotta make Ryan work for it Rachel!?

The Time Traveller’s Wife:  Unlike Nicholas “I got single bitches eatin’ out of the palm of my hand” Sparks, this book was written by a women, Audrey Niffennegger (she is actually a great writer and this book is the shit). HOWEVER, once again Rachel and her cute little red ringlets suck in another unsuspected beef cake in the form of Eric Bana who, wait for it, TRAVELS THROUGH TIME AND SPACE TO BE WITH HER! I have had a hard enough time getting the ex-boyfriend to go to a fucking  party with me let alone, oh I don’t know, bend the space time continuum.  Sure Rachel is faced with the prospect of having her huzzy disappear at unknown times, but once again, small hurdle! Damn you Rachel!

The Vow:  Yes, I watched this last night, and yes this is why I am writing this longish diatribe/rant about Rachel McAdams. In this movie poor Rachel gets a head injury and loses her memory and can’t remember that she is married to Channing “Sensitive as Shit” Tatum.  If I woke up from a coma and Channing Tatum was standing over me all “We are married yo!” I would be like “Sweet fuckin’ job me!” not as Rachel in the movie acted, all disgusted and whiny.  Because Rachel is a heartless harpy, she pretty much puts Tatum through the task of making her fall in love with him again. This guys wants Rachel so bad he is gonna go through that whole courting bullshit not once, but twice!!! Maybe next time you should wear a seatbelt Rachel before you put another man through your hellish love game!

I need to go watch something were things explode and heads get chopped off with machetes now.

Quick! Get Thee to the Park!

Well, the few of you that still read this blog have probably been, “Where the fuck is my awesome daily dose of Hallie banterings? If you have not, then great…I can stop berating my therapist with guilt musings over unaccomplished projects. Sike! I can’t afford a therapist! Man you really fell for that one!

But seriously folks, there really has not been that much cool to write about. My movie habit has decreased due to the sunny days and Rick Santorum turned me down for an interview because he is apparently too busy being the world’s most idiotic human (that and there was a clearance on Cosby sweaters at Marshalls).

One thing I feel entitled to write about today is Portland when it is sunny and the phenomenon of people that influx to Colonel Sumners Park, located on SE 20^th and Belmont. The park is equivalent to high school, and by that statement I mean it’s real “cliquey.” Below is an educational list of all the different groups you can find hanging out at Colonel Sumners High on any given sunny day. This is merely an observation, I find many of these groups necessary to fill out the park dynamic and appreciate seeing them all co-exist on acres of half lush half muddy terrain.

1)      Borderline Homeless Ravers

This lovely group of people can normally be found huddled around a picnic table, one preferable close to bushes. Their age range is 12-45 and their dress code is dingy pajama pants, shirts that are too small and accessories that really scream “who is ready to drop molly and watch me wave some glow-sticks in your face?” They chain smoke, occasionally bust out into dance and would probably give their left nut for a can of Sparks. You have no idea if they are actually friends or if they were all sporadically wondering around the park, spotted the table with someone wearing similar attire and said “I should go hang out over there! They look like they have meth sores just like me!”

2)      Cirque Du Soleil Posers

How do these guys gather? Does someone send out an email like “It’s supposed to be super sweet tomorrow! Gather up your hula hoops, stilts, glass balls and meet me at Sumner bros! I’ll bring my slack line and a 6 pack of my kombucha home brew!” Look,  I’m sure slack lining requires a great deal of skill, but It’s as fleeting as parkour-- not a lot of people can do it and the only fame you will probably ever achieve will be from You Tube, unless you are that Art Garfunkel looking guy from the Super Bowl halftime show.

3)      Inevitable Solo Guitar Guy

Okay, so this is not a really a group but you see this guy everywhere, he is on campus, he is on the bus, he is at parties, but most of all, he is at the park.  Let me be clear, I do not hate on people that like to take their love of music to the public ears, more power to them. But If you are that guy that tries really really really hard to sound  like the lead singer from Incubus or god help me Dave Matthews and your really not that good at the guitar to begin with, keep that shit inside for I would prefer to enjoy my time in the park sans the pretentious sounds of amateur hour.

4)      The Librarians

I thought the park was for socializing with your friends? I read “alone” in the park, why? Because it is something I like to do when I don’t feel like socially interacting or my friends or busy. I don’t really understand the concept of 4 people sitting on a blanket ready heavy ass shit like Dostoevsky and Foucault.  “Geez Kim, can you shut up I’m trying to read Crime and Punishment over here!” I think I would be more forgiving if it was People or US weekly.

5)      Incorrect Dodgeballers

I used to play Dodgeball a few years back and it was some competitive intense shit. Maybe I’m used to the thrill that comes from the sparseness of players and balls. I just can’t see how 30 plus people on either side of a tennis net is fun. I mean, you have to clear the net, right? That would result in balls being thrown higher which are easier to catch, right? Frankly it looks like a hipster clusterfuck with no way to keep track of score but I guess that might be where the fun lies. I guess I should not knock it till I try it but I feel like I would need sufficient beer beforehand to make up for potential lack of action in the court.  Gotta stay entertained somehow!

6)      Moms That Used to Be Hip!

Hey remember me! I used to do all the cool things you do like go to Stumptown and shows at the Doug Fir, but oops looks like I accidentally got married to a rich guy with a sweet spread in Ladd’s Addition and now I try to relive my cool days by dragging my children to the same park I used to roll joints in! Fuck I am so bored!”