WHMPC - The Chicken Guy

Lovelies...it's been a while. I know...you've anxiously been awaiting my latest dating infraction...so let's skip over the several-month, mid-life crisis whirlwind that was the Sugar Daddy and head straight on to....

The Chicken Guy

Back a few months ago I swore off of online dating. I removed my profile from good old Plenty of Fish and decided I was done. Time to focus the summer on me, rowing and trying to take better care of my lawn. That was an epic failure - but not as bad as the last few summers, I'll admit. But I left my profile on the barely trafficked website okcupid.com. Lo and behold, someone messages me. A few messages back and forth and he seems normal enough so we decided to meet.

Now, a few years back (yes, I've been single for THAT long now), a more mature singleton gave me an EBS that I wasn't ready for. She told me that, as someone who did not wish to breed my own spawns, I would probably have a hard time finding men who were in my situation because of my age and because most of them probably had been through their starter marriages too and already had one or two chicklets on the loose with their last names attached. The thing that stuck with me was that she told me that I may not want to date them because they had children but worse, I wouldn't want to date someone who didn't want to be with their children because that would be saying something about his character. Fair enough.

Chicken Guy has two kids. Young kids. And he was separated from his ex for only a mere 8 months after a 13 year divorce. One of the reasons he picked up on my profile is that I had indicated in a 'personality question' on the site that I didn't want to have kids with my next partner. (BTW, part of the reason I stayed on that site is it's basically like a trashy magazine with quizzes and stuff PLUS a dating area - totally entertains me.)

Okay, fair enough. So we went to a movie on our first date. Right away he was into being very...touchy. Arm around me, rubbing the back of my neck, blah blah blah - don't worry, it was PG, Big Brother. Honestly it didn't feel totally creeperish and he smelt not bad so meh, whatever.

Date #2 he met me at the rowing club and we went for a drive - again with the rubbing of the back of my neck which I finally asked him to stop because I just needed my driving space. One of the things I'd noted by that time in our interactions was that he conspicuously never mentioned his kids. Like ever. And he sees them regularly. While my other dating experiences with F&$%@#*% fathers hasn't been great nor have they gone on and on and on about their kids, they're at least part of a conversation SOMEWHERE. Like if I mention that I like broccoli, I may get a 'my kids love it too' kinda comment. So, I took this opportunity, while trapped in my car, to grill him. His rationale was that he wasn't looking for a mother for them (holy cliché line used by EVERY papa on a dating website) and that he was really looking for a partner to have a relationship with.

I figured date #3 couldn't hurt. We watched a movie at his house and again, some more details came out about his past - including that his children weren't planned. Dude, tell me how in your 30's you're still having 'accidents'. Sorry, in this day and age, anyone over the age of 20 should be educated enough to know to use contraceptives. And I could see ONE being an accident...but TWO? Now, that's just irresponsibility.

By date #4, I'd clearly figured out what the deal was with this guy. He had been happily married, made two poor judgment calls and became a father and then things changed with his wife. While he loved his kids, it was pretty evident that he didn't really want to have a large parenting role with them and he was looking for a replacement spouse that he could live his DINK (+child support) lifestyle with. While y'all know I ain't no breeder, this still didn't sit right with me. I didn't want to be the 'enabler' who stood by and let him be less engaged than I would think a good parent would want to be.

So I stopped calling him. I know...so mature...but we just let things die quietly in the night.

Oh, and his name? His work involves the poultry industry - hence, the Chicken Guy.

Oh Facebook humour, you crack me up

I know, I know - another 'see what I saw and thought I'd share with you' posts. But this is funny, swear! Especially when 'The Church' gets involved.

If Historical Events had Facebook Statuses...

*old man wheezing*

Either I'm classless, it's late and I'm beyond tired making this űber funny OR it really *is* comical...

E.E. Cummings may have just been a little perverted

I routinely read a blog called 'Living Flirtatiously'. It provides my sentimental heart with the right doses of butterfly commentary mixed with cynical dating realities to make me feel like I'm not alone in blundering my way through the dating world. Today's post by Maura was on poems for any stage of a romantic relationship. Of course I read them but one of the last ones that I read was the one by E.E. Cummings called I like my body when it is with your.

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

Um, it's kinda randy, non? I have to admit that just over 12 years ago I sat in a crowded auditorium writing my last English lit essay for a final exam in my mandatory-for-my-BA 1st year English lit class and I sat for a minute to gather my thoughts when I realized that this would be the last English exam I would ever have to right. I could have SUNG I felt so ELATED at the idea that I would never have to use the words protagonist, antagonist, foreshadowing, anticlimax or narrative again - note I didn't say 'climax' ;o) . Probably one of the reasons why I hate really stuffy book clubs. I like to enjoy the written word on a purely superficial level...is that so wrong of me?

Anyways, I decided to read these poems as I've recently found myself on 2 and soon to be 3 dates with a master's grad of English lit. I can't admit to never having read E.E. Cummings, can I? Well now I can...if only that it's something rather randy that I've read...I wonder if that would scandalize the English lit major....