Old dog chasing tail

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Written as a profile for a dating site a number of years ago:

Bitter, unsuccessful middle-aged loser wallowing in an unending sea of inert, dreary loneliness looking for like-minded, needy leech-like hanger-on to abuse with my life story, boring sex and Anne Murray albums…
’till death do us part.

I love eating peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches in the rain, drinking fine wine in paper cups, watching Wonder Woman reruns, peeing on birds in the park and licking strangers on the subway.

Being a 42 year old overweight, balding man I’m in a hurry to find love. I try to keep in shape by chasing squirrels around my back yard and have cut from 24 to 12 beers a day. I take baths weekly and douse myself in Old Spice the rest of the time…so I’m always smelling nice!

I’m definitely your classic romantic. I love a nice candlelight dinner, some quiet background music, and a couple hits of ether.
I’d really like one of those “friendship with benefits” arrangements. A great benefit to me would be a woman that has insurance and a car, as I need to make the occasional trip to BC to pick up “souvenirs”.

I said I was looking for a friend, but it is unfair of me to deny the women looking for long-term the chance to meet me, so I figure by the time we get to know each other I will be divorced and we can marry. My parents are kicking me out after July and I’d like to meet a woman with a lot of money so we can have fun. I like women between 18-45, but would consider older if we do not have to touch a lot.

You have a penchant for eating raw meat, find divorced 40 something year-old losers appealing, have climbed Mt. Everest (or at least thought about it) and sweat freely and often. You wear size five shoes and think shopping is a sport. An appreciation of high-pitched, screeching noises is important. Must like being bored and lonely.

To be honest, I really miss being in a committed relationship. A great relationship is an exploration of all of the senses…for both people involved.

The sight of me sitting on my ass on the couch surrounded by empties, watching football and wolfing down cold pizza from last night’s antics.
“I love ya babe, kenya get me another beer?”

The aura of the relentless subtle displays of love that I heard daily…
“Take out the garbage”
“Put the seat down”
“Help with the dishes”
“Slow down”
“Don’t you ever listen?”
“They’re your kids too you know!”

and my favorite was when she called me pet names with passion and intensity…
“You are a fucking asshole!” Notice the adjective? It was true love.
Somebody please take me back to those days…

There is nothing to describe the warmth I felt with the touches she inflicted on me…the remote control hitting my jaw…or the throwing of wine…and the glass… in my face. The first time she kicked the boys…I was shocked! Then a tingly feeling started…oh! sorry… I’ll tell that one later.
Ahhh! So much fun! I feel incomplete without the touch of another.

How I miss her scent! Always smelling like a woman! A combination of baby puke, dirty diapers, rose scented soap, strained peas and the perfume I always bought for her at Mick’s Convenience. Sometimes on Friday nights she used to get dressed up real nice to go shopping for groceries. She would come back 4-5 hours later smelling kind of like my brother’s cologne…
Oh how I miss that…

My Baby showed great taste when she got me. Now it’s your chance!

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