I seem to remember hearing that it’s the little things that make you the happiest. That in this world of colour TVs, stereo boom boxes, and fashion knickers, it’s the simple, often overlooked things that produce real joy in you. I know that sounds lame, and it probably is to some degree, but this is the thought I’m going with so lay off.
I have no intention of getting philosophical or deep, or breaking it down to simple things like basic food or clothing that we American fat cats take for granted. I know we suck here in the take-it-all-for-granted Western world, but that’s a rant for another thread (that I’ll probably never start, so what do I care, talk about it here if you really want). I just wanna know what little things get you every time, which often-overlooked things in life make you happy.
And since all of us here are quirky in our own special ways, I’m guessing our various simple, “little” things are probably pretty different or unique. Or maybe you’ll find that you really love something that someone else here enjoys, but it’s so little that you’ve overlooked the beauty of its wonderful simplicity.
Let me give you an example:
As my name and facial hair may suggest, I’m a man — a man who likes girls but who doesn’t understand them. This is an age-old metaphor involving Venus and Mars and chocolate and sports and maybe guitars. I didn’t come up with it but I have my own website so here we go… You guys line up on the left, girls on the right, and let’s sort this out, shall we? If there’s something you don’t understand, let’s hear it and maybe we can get some answers. I’ll start:
Ladies, what’s with the heels? I see you steadying yourselves, walking some invisible tightrope as you carefully — but supposedly gracefully — strut down the sidewalk, balancing on a quarter inch by five inch platform for no apparent reason. (And if you’re not wearing these you’re clopping down the hall like a Clydesdale in some ridiculously loud, blacksmithed shoe a dwarf might wear on one foot to even out their height.) When I ask — generally in reference to some hot-but-dumb blonde who’s stripped down to undies and, for some absurd reason, very high heels — I’m usually told some crap about how it makes your calves look better. Okay, first off, isn’t that cheating or false advertising? But more to the point, why do I see you in long pants and heels tall enough to bring you to my eye level? Jeans and high heels, of all things. Why are you not simply wearing these silly lifts during sleazy photo shoots? Not that I would respect you more if there was a pictorial to compliment your wardrobe, but at least that would bring about some logical continuity to the argument… And I understand that the myth is that you ladies do it because we guys have cornered you into it — that we demand it because Hef and Flynt have somehow convinced us that this is what we like — but you gotta realize that we’re chuckling under our breath, right? Take the heels off, curl and drag your poor toes across the carpet, and reclaim your natural height, okay? Sheesh. Don’t you know how hot tennis shoes and a ball cap can be?
I’m not afraid of the online dating thing. I’m afraid of some of the people involved in online dating, but the pressure of the boy-for-hire arrangement hasn’t cracked me yet. And all joking aside, I’ve met some very cool people. But as with everything else I come across in life, I have a few things to say about this whole business:
First off, wouldn’t it would be fun if people included all the bad things about themselves when writing up their for sale/lease/rent ads? Maybe posted their crazy-haired pictures from last Christmas morning or something? But unfortunately you get the absolute best pictures they have to offer and resume-accurate truths about their life and habits. I liken it to the sale of any other goods and services. (Okay, not services… poor choice of words.) You accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, and however else the heck that song goes…
For those of you who have not had the pleasure of humiliating yourselves online in such a manner, let me explain how this works, and give some tips for you single people who are thinking about giving it a whirl:
You may be required or encouraged to start off by taking a personality test of the highest quality. You can generally assess these tests by looking at the irrelevance of the questions, the grammar, and the absurdity of the pictures. For example, here is a screenshot of the Yahoo! Personals test (click for larger version). I don’t quite remember, but I have to suspect that this question was asking about your family’s history of mental retardation. Regardless, you can be assured that these tests will adequately categorize, label, and match you with complete strangers who may or may not be of your target gender.
But before you get too far, you need to consider your profile photo, and any other pictures you might wanna include that show off just how much of a tool or tramp you are.
Today’s Special: Breasts & Thighs
Well whether by my hand or not, I’m back on the market. Single people (& those of you who can remember freedom), let’s hear it: Dating sucks. Am I right? Who wants to do that? Attention whores? Yeah, I definitely get that. Who else? Chuck Woolery? Contestants of Intercourse Island? (Again, you go too far.) But my next lucky winner is not likely to come via arranged marriage (coincidentally, I figure probably equal percentage of drawing a psycho spouse), so that means I need to pull the mock turtlenecks out of the closet & get my cabbage patch & running man up to par. And into the meat case I go. (Seriously, a sausage joke here is just right out.)