Match Game '11

I am about to shatter the image you have of me.

But, as Eminem says, "hold your nose, 'cause here goes the cold water".

I met my current girlfriend on match.com.

What? Huh? Holy shit!

You can't believe that a guy like me, who never had much of a problem getting girls, or at least getting sex, would ever try online dating. But there it is, just as clear as Ashley Tisdale's nosejob.

I'd totally do her, btw, with or without the big schnoz. Or the crossbite. She really should have seen an orthodontist instead of a plastic surgeon. But I digress.

Life is very different for me now. My daughter Ivie is with me all the time, except when she's at daycare. Her mom comes around every once in a while, but it's usually to eat and borrow money. It's almost like having another child.

"Mommy, wanna play Barbies?" Ivie will ask, in her sweet little girl voice.

"Not now baby," Tim will reply, laying on the couch, her eyes already half closed.

I don't have the freedom I used to. I'm totally fine with that. I wasted a lot of time when I was younger, meeting up with friends, buying $12 drinks, making sure everyone smelled my cologne and saw my new suit. I did have some fun, but things are less hectic for me nowadays.

Every once in a while, I meet someone out. Ivie is really helpful with that. She's a beautiful girl, with big blue eyes and porcelain skin, and she's always giggling about something. Wherever I go, every hot chick in the place runs up to say, "Oh how cute!" and sometimes I can strike up a conversation--but let's face it, she didn't walk up to see me, so that usually doesn't work.

During the "sex years", I mostly met women at the office, through mutual friends, or while out doing errands. I almost never met anyone at clubs or bars.

My company has been bought out, and most of my coworkers were laid off. I work remotely from home most days, and even if I go to the office, I have exactly zero eligible female coworkers. Most of my social friends have married off and have children of their own. On the rare occasions when they go out, they constantly check their watches and calculate out loud how much they owe the babysitter so far. The torch has been passed to a younger generation of partiers, a tattooed, pierced group of kids, yes, kids, with whom I've nothing in common.

And as far as errands are concerned, I'm not dilly-dallying at the laundromat anymore. I'm in there to get my drycleaning and get the hell out--even if there is some curvalicious bombshell in line behind me. I'll smile at her on the way out, but that's about it.

To put it simply, I have a lot fewer dating prospects than I used to. So yeah, I signed up on Match.

Writing my profile was fun. I worked hard on it and made sure it wasn't loaded with all the cliches that others were, such as, "Well, here goes", "I'm not comfortable talking about myself", etc.

I really liked browsing the profiles too. I could put in the exact criteria I was looking for, and "meet" more women in a day than I would meet in six months on my own. Local women, women my age who liked the same things I did.

Next time: The online dating begins...!

What the eff was I thinking?

I just went back and read a bunch of my posts from 2004. Who the fuck was that guy?

The word "juvenile" keeps coming to mind. I am a man, so my dick is programmed to give me great pleasure whenever I stick it anywhere, and it will always work that way. There are plenty of men out there seeking that thrill. But the guys who are obsessed with it, like I was, have something else going on psychologically. And yes, I was definitely obsessed. I was a fucking madman.

I played it off very nicely, thank you, both on here and individually with all of you who were IMing and emailing me, but I had issues. I was definitely preoccupied. I was screwing a lot, and yet still masturbating like a 15-year-old boy.

And another thing: Anyone can fuck a road whore. I dated some attractive girls--Lila was really hot, and Kelly, and Tim of course, but a lot of them were kinda average, and I did them pretty much because they were willing. When I came across a good one, I turned on the charm, loaded on the cologne, and prayed. Sometimes the girl would be interested, sometimes not. Be careful of the dudes who brag about getting a lot of sex. Most of them are either lying outright, or screwing some girl who's had 10,000 guys before him.

In my posts, I seemed to imply I got laid whenever I wanted, and that is not the case. If I was lucky enough to get some girl to fuck me, it was a good day.

Cue the crickets

I've started and stopped this post five times so far.

Dad dying, while tragic, and a great source of sorrow for me, was not a total surprise. I attended to all the usual details and went back to work a week later, with only a trace of the malaise that comes with great tragedies. But the post about him shuffling off to the great beyond seemed a good way to end things here, so I never posted again.

Frankly, I was tired of blogging anyway, and had been for a while. I have no idea if I'm back or not; First and foremost, I want to find out if any of you are actually reading this, because there's nothing more pathetic than performing for a non-existent audience.

My daughter is a little over two now, old enough to scold me ("I mad. I mad at Daddy.") and to work a remote control with amazing skill. My marriage hasn't gone nearly as well.

I don't know exactly what happened. Tim barely comes home anymore. I don't know where she goes or what she does when she gets there. I have asked her 100 times if she's using again, and all she does is scream at me. We haven't had sex in a year.

I filed for divorce in October and I'm pushing to get things resolved as fast as I can. I have a life to live and I intend to live it.

I have a new girlfriend now, and I'm very happy. I've lost all my desire to fuck around; all I want now is a girlfriend.

That's it for now. Drop a comment please, so I know you read this!

Stevo