The Current Match

Before I outline the new guy, Gord, there's something burning a hole in my mind, and I need to get it out, or I may die. Did I mention my flair for the dramatic? Hyperbole also makes me happy.

One of the terrible burdens a Single MILF must bear is the horror of having no one who can appreciate little things like stupid licence plates viewed after a particularly rancid day. So I will abuse my blog. The Girl is still decades away from being a good audience to anything other than a well timed fart and a short conversation about whodunit.

Seen: A lovely, white, BMW M3 with the plate "M3 CUTIE". Gag. I wanted to ram my Saturn so far up her cutie tailpipe... shoot me in my cutie vagina if my head ever gets that big - not my cutie head though, pretty (cutie?) please. Through the heavily tinted glass was a cougarish, chubby woman with frosty highlights in her fake, blonde hair. Super cutie.

Why does it bother me?  Well, how many years away am I from moving to a plate on my car from a blog with the self assigned title "MILF"?  You can see why I got so worked up...

Anywho... back to Single MILF dating. Thanks for listening.

My current match is "Gord". He's a carbon copy of my last "I followed the Grateful Dead for years, I'm vegan, I have long, grey hair I'm clinging to, and I know how to use a camera." We had SER.I.OUS.LY amazing sex. I think that's what draws me to Gord - the similarities must continue, right? He lives 45 minutes from me (what is with that - all the One's live away!), hiked the Bruce trail last week, writes run on sentences (match!), and you can almost smell the ganja he smokes to have his deep thoughts by...

We've emailed a couple times. His last one came in yesterday, and I still have not replied. My last "Gord" was not a good match in anyway other than the sack. I hesitate. Maybe tomorrow night I'll feel like it.

I've closed so many really ugly matches this week, it's almost making me feel shallow. Almost. Must go preen - it's a Rylan, er, gym day.