Monday, July 30, 2007

Getting every bit of what I paid for.

So I decided to sit down and complete my fweewove.com profile. Everything. My likes, my dislikes, religious beliefs, political stance, favorite food, biggest fear, place I'd least like to be kicked (Barcelona)... the whole she-bang! This, I figured, was the key to finding my true wove! If I don't let them know who I really am and what I really want, I reasoned, then how could I expect them to help me? It took some time, but I got it done, and with my newly specific search parameters I called for a match.

And this is what I got:
"polyamorous, looking for another new relationship"
Apparently my Mr. Right is shacked up with a Mrs. Right and a couple of little Rightlings, but they have an understanding. And a corral of "friends" on the side. And an opening for a new "friend." And probably hot-and-cold running cable-porn. And an uncanny ability to give me the fuzzy, leaping, sideways-hinged and double-barrelled heebie-jeebies! (brief pause for shudder dance of a thousand great googly-mooglies!)

And in case you need more excellent information I should mention that Fabio here looks to be about 5 and a half feet tall. And 3 and a half feet wide. With kind of a dirty Teddy Ruxpin thing goin' on. And did I mention he's looking not for a special lady, but more for an additional, or "spare" if you will, special lady. A sparecial lady. He apparently is so overflowing, so bubbling over with masculine machismo magic that just one, or possibly two, or maybe even three to five women just can't satiate him. Nor, apparently, can two to five daily donuts. But really, who could resist such animal magnetism? (cough, gag, pinch of vomit into my mouth...)

Not only was this the first match that my newly specific search brought me, but it was the ONLY MATCH. The ONLY ONE. This is IT. If I am to go to the person with which I am meant to be I will have to dig deep, deep into my Mr. Rogers training and really rock my sharing skills. Please Mr. Polyamorous (which is, I believe, Latin for uber-randy, which is German for mucho-horny, which is Spanish for "I actually think I can get a bunch of women to come have loose sex with me despite my personal appearance and wife plus kids."), won't you be my neighbor?

I will admit, people, that this response to such specificity is disappointing. It's sure a good thing I didn't pay for this one!

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