Internet dating is a loaded nacho?

Dear Lonely People:

 Let thinkingfrog, defender of the meek, tell you a story.

My brother and his girlfriend Mona were walking down Broadway in Manhattan one night when she pointed and said, “Oh look at that cute couple–it’s their first date. I’m sure.” She ran up to them and asked how they had met.

The couple, taken aback, responded, “we met on match.com.”

Mona smiled and said, “Is it going well?”

The couple blushed and nodded.

“That’s my boyfriend,” Mona added. The couple asked Mona whether she had met him on match.com too. “Oh no ,” she replied quickly. “we met like real people.”

This is absurd, everyone. I mean, aren’t you tired of telling your friends you met your recent beau at a coffee shop?

“Yeah, I was reading a book and he just came up and we had the nicest conversation.”

Right. The coffee shop approach, thanks to earbuds, is all but dead. Facebook is iffy and can lead to quick alienation if you hit on the wrong person or ask someone you don’t know to join your pirate adventure. However, internet dating is a growing, vibrant activity. In fact, in 2009, almost 20 million people used some form of online dating.

Perhaps the stigma comes from the money it takes to open an account on the most “legitimate” sites–match.com, eharmony, etc. After all, what are you paying for? The ability to look at strangers’ pictures? Cough, cough, free. Send someone a person message? You can practically fall in the street on your way to Chucky Cheese and receive a new email address.

So, is paying for internet dating a milder form of prostitution? Well, not exactly. Plenty of guys pay to get into lady’s nights–the closest thing we have in American to the running of the bulls. Then where does the stigma lie?

I mean, the idea that the internet is home of the geeks outta be long dead, right? It’s 2009 people. This isn’t the age of Orange Julius and Pog. And even if you feel bad about paying to meet people, consider the cost of buying a girl one drink each Saturday for a month. Tip your barista and, there you go–$30 bucks for some online action. Still don’t want to pay? Crying at night that “I’ve joined environmental groups out the wazoo, knitting circles, and community Yoga–isn’t that enough?” Sure, so hit up okcupid,  a free site with more quizzes than you can shake a loaded nacho at.

Feel free to share your own internet dating stories, and good luck.

Sincerely yours,

thinkingfrog, defender of the meek

What The Simpsons Can Teach Us About Sarah Palin

When I was a wee lad, I used to sit in front of the TV with pizza bagels and watch the Simpsons. The Halloween episodes were always my favorite. This morning, as I read the news today, I saw some hilarious jokes Sarah Palin had made at the Gridiron Club. Then, I was reminded of a Simpsons episode called “Attack of the 50 Foot Eyesores.”

In this episode, Homer sees an advertisement for a “Colossal doughnut” and races to the Lard Lad Donut establishment to procure one. However, when the donut turns out to be hilariously diminutive, he feels cheated by the advertisement and vows revenge, returning later that night to steal the Lard Lad’s giant doughnut. Unfortunately, a freak storm brings to life the Lard Lad along with various other advertising mascots–Mr. Peanut, The Marlboro Man, etc.

Lisa, always the smart cookie, journeys to an advertising agency for help on defeating the monstrous advertisements. A slick ad exec tells her that when people stop paying attention to advertisements, they simply go away.

Returning to Springfield, she finds the monstrous advertisements on a rampage. Worse still, the townspeople are entranced and cannot stop watching the mindless destruction, which further feeds the monsters’ powers. Lisa solicits the help of Paul Anka who plays a catchy song, temporarily distracting the Springfieldians and defeating the monstrous advertisements for good.

What products Sarah Palin could become a spokesperson for after her star falls like the proverbial Lard Lad in the Simpsons. For example, if she were to become the mascot for Maybelline:

Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe she’s make-believe.

Dear readers, I challenge you to further explore Sarah Palin’s post-Lard Lad career by leaving a comment below. Now, if you’ll excuse me, a fleet of pizza bagels beckon.

Dear Inept Weatherpersons:

Dear Inept Weatherpersons:

It is your old pal, demanding to know why the snow you promised today has not come. Tell me. Were you so preoccupied with not missing the latest episode of Scrubs on Hulu that you shook the magic eight ball a little too fast? Are you aware that promising snow that cannot be delivered is a federal offense, punishable by making your hair look like the weatherman in the picture to your right? Tell me, oh great prognosticator, how the promise of snow turns into a sunny day complete with blue sky?

It is my hope that you are fired for spreading your weather lies. You and all the other weatherpersons who stand up there in front of your green screen secretly wishing you were at home in your basement practicing your lightsaber skills have become drunk with power. You are not Zeus, so put down the cardboard lightning bolt your mom made you and hang your head in shame.

Sincerely,

thinkingfrog defender of the meek