Disclaimer: The following blog is in no way whatsoever to be construed as a pitiable cry for help. If, however, you go ahead and take it that way anyhow and feel moved by compassion to help, then I’m sure as monkeys gonna be the last person on Earth to stop you. That is all.
To begin at the beginning (rather than the end, which always leaves people wondering what you’re on about), I’ve never been particularly good when it comes to meeting girls. And by girls, I mean girls to date. I’m all sorts of dapper and rakish with the ladies in whom I’m not particularly interested of who I know have no great interest in me, but put me in the same room as a girl I rather have a crush on, and a feeling altogether curious steals over me all a sudden. I’m not entirely sure what best to call it, so I’m just gonna go with Socially Crippling Mortal Terror and go with that. As one might well expect, this does little to enhance my wit, dancing skills, or ability to use complete words in conversation (much less complete sentences). Which is all a long way of saying that I have a better chance of being kidnapped by militant hamsters than ever successfully picking up a girl at a bar, club, or other such social place thingie (I’m serious, that thing with the hamsters has happened, like, three times since the start of Summer alone).
Which brings me, at long last, to my real point here (other than establishing a great deal of Ben-centered pathos), that I thought I’d give computer dating a try. I mean think about it; the internet is a giant place full of weirdoes without real lives who spend their days slaying orcs and writing blogs. Clearly, it seemed to me, this was a sure place to meet women of great class, charm, and personality. As such, I went ahead and just skipped all the dating sites whose banners included the phrase “Free Live Skanks”, and went with the seemingly dignified Eharmony. Except there’s one horrible problem with Eharmony; it seems to be the unofficial site for single women who are creeping up on 30 and desperate to get married but never will because they’re too busy with their careers/mental illnesses to really have a relationship with anyone. That’s a bit of a generalization, but only in the same way as saying that, generally, water is wet and beef makes a poor choice of roofing materials. So, after going through a months-long saga of dating and not dating this one girl who was very nice except for the fact that every couple of weeks we’d go to Starbucks and she’d dump me. It was almost like clockwork, she’d suggest Starbucks, I’d plan for dumpage with my Viente Mocha Latte, and so the cycle continued for quite a while until it just got silly and we went our separate ways.
So, I thought I’d try Yahoo for a while, only it turns out to be the official dating service of crazy girls who have some kind of weird aversion to actually meeting anyone online. For instance, last week, I got a message from a girl who was all like, “Hey, you sound pretty cool, let’s talk!” So I wrote something like, “Sure thing, here’s my email and my AIM name!” And then, I get a message back from her that’s all, “I’m sorry, but I’m taking a break from dating for a while.” It was the weirdest thing ever, until it happened again this week with a different girl.
Now, by this point, I’m just totally confused. I mean, it’s not like between the first message they sent me and the second one they learned anything new to scare them off. Unless like, both of them had their entire family slain by mythic Danish warriors and the fact that my AIM name is King Hrothgar struck them as incredibly offensive in some way. I’m rather beginning to suspect that like, my son is destined to defeat some evil robot cyborg army in the future and so the evil robot cyborgs are traveling back in time to mess with my head via online dating services (don’t laugh, it happened to Grover Cleveland too). I’m not even going to get into the time that I went out with a girl from Yahoo, beat her at bowling, and she never talked to me again (it was worth it though, I got a 156 for the first time in my life).
So anyways, having all but lost confidence in the internet as a way to meet women, I’ve decided to try a more direct approach, blatantly and shamelessly selling myself over my own little slice of cyberspace. Which is to say, in brief, that if any of my readers happen to female, single, somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 years of age, crazy, but in a good way, not an evil robot cyborg from the future, and not an actual under-a-bridge-dwelling troll, this is your chance to date a minor celebrity (really, you’re getting in on the ground floor here, as negotiations for a teacupmammoths.com motion picture are already well under way with New Line Cinema; Elijah Wood is going to be playing Dick Cheney, by the way).
So, should you happen to be interested in a guy who owns a minivan with a fifth of a million miles on it, builds his own medieval artillery and chainmail, has an unplaceable yet exotic accent, a fondness for old books and hand tools, has a Level 49 Paladin, and of course, is in charge of a thriving media empire, drop me a line via any of the three pillars of teacupmammoths communication (email, AIM, and the ever-popular comments section), and you may well be the first girl I date who doesn’t turn out to be some kind of psycho.
And of course, lest you doubt that I’m the charming and handsome rogue I make myself out to be, here’s incontrovertible photographic evidence (I’m the one on the right):
We now return to our regularly scheduled program of NOT being one of those angsty emo kid blogs. Tune in tomorrow when I make a series of humorous comparisons between Buffy the Vampire Slayer,
