They’re Huge. They’re Just HUGE! (not)

I hate dating sites. They’re full of people with…awkward…intentions. So many men with “hearts of gold”, who are “honest to a fault”.  After a short conversation, you usually realize that their heart is not their priority, and half of them lie when the truth would sound better. 

As I was writing, a moment ago, I got a message from one of those dear, sweet men. He wanted to know how big my boobs are and if my lady parts were shaved, trimmed, or natural. I shit you not. Oh…and here he is, on my screen, once more. Excuse me. I’ll be right back….  Ok. That was more of the same. So, I asked if he had a huge Johnson, because I really like freakishly huge  ones. He says his is 9 1/2 inches. I told him it wasn’t big enough. Lol! THERE HAS GOT TO BE A BETTER WAY TO MEET PEOPLE!

I also worry if I’m going to meet someone who has half a skin suit hanging in his closet and is trying to get it finished by Easter. At this point, I’d volunteer if he wouldn’t talk to thirty other people while chatting with me. I hate being some bitch in line.

I can’t imagine what the men go through. They’re just plain ol them in their pics. We ladies have beauty products, tape, and makeup to get us picture perfect. I always post a pic without makeup, next to my good picture. I went ahead and put my weight in my profile, too. Maybe that’s why I haven’t found Mr Right…because I’m no man’s idea of Miss Right. Honestly, I don’t think I’m anywhere near ready to have a man in my life. I still cry over Bennie every day. That probably wouldn’t go over too well. And Bennie was my one and only. Except for one that I don’t count. I don’t know how to deal with other men on that level. 

I think I’m gonna put things on the back burner for a while. Work on myself…tend to business I’ve been neglecting…whatever. I think I should really come to terms with the fact that I might grow old alone. That’s really ok. I wish I had a bunch of grandkids. That’s how I thought this time in life would be…playing with my grandkids. I have one who I haven’t seen in over a year now. My oldest and his wife aren’t going to have children because she’s got the gene for MS. She doesn’t have it, herself, but her mother and two sisters do, so she got gene tested and it’s a 50/50 chance of her bearing a child with it. They don’t think that’s fair to a child, since they know the risk and don’t believe in abortion. So…that’s that. 

Things could be worse. I have it pretty good, really. Like Mom always told me when she’d beg me to leave Bennie, “There are worse things than being alone.” I should’ve listened back then, and I need to remember that now. 

Life is one tricky bitch. 

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