Tons o’ Tuna: Fishin’ for Love Online


“Face it, girls. We’re only gonna look at your picture. None of us guys is ever gonna read what you write.”

Overnight, my sweet, sexy Fang and I are no more (see Addendum) and I’ve stooped to trying online dating for the first time. And what a rollicking delight it is.

This time, I’m looking for the full package: Friendship plus love, good kissing, and still some HEAT. (Hah! Like all that’s likely. Dream on, Babe.)
 

Never Give Up, Honey. I Haven’t! (I Just Wish That Somebody, Somewhere Would Just Once Respond to My Texts.)


 

My “absolutes” are few (I mean, look who I was dating, yes? But a very nice man who loved me deeply–sniff! Was I an idiot?):

  • The ability to make me laugh and an appreciation for my humor,
  • No obesity (that may be small of me, but it is what it is),
  • Fairness,
  • Something between the ears besides the mounds of hair growing out,
  • Good grooming and hygiene,
  • Reasonable taste (e.g. no double-knit polyester, right?).
  •  

    Okay, and I probably would be hesitant at extreme unattractiveness, or combovers—I mean, just cut your dang hair off, already. You’re not fooling anyone.
     

    I Think I Look Quite Arresting.


     

    Oops—and I, darn my genetics, am deadly allergic to dogs and cats, so that rules out a lot of the better dudes—‘cause the nicer ones would be dog owners, yes? Or at least own one of those lesser feline creatures.

    Clearly the Weaker Pet.


     

    Dregslist

    Dregs: What’s Left After the Good Stuff is Gone.


     

    Some people see Jesus in dregs. I didn’t find any miracles.

    360 ads for men seeking women, and 300 of them were d#ck picks.
     

    I Don’t Get It. Even WITH Glasses, They All Look Pretty Much the Same.


     

    Obviously, these pictures were tremendously exciting to me, particularly as the gentlemen held the cameras close to their members so as to trick we gullible females into thinking their willies were GI-NOR-MOUS. I was fooled each time–and greatly stimulated.

    Unfortunately, I was also unable to tell anything about the gentlemen themselves based solely upon their extremely creative photography.
     

    But I thank them here for all of the repeat orgasms they engendered in my throbbing loins.


     

    Of the remaining 60, 58 were not d#ck’s heads, but were posted by d#ckheads. (The other two? One owns cats and t’other lives too far away.)

    One guy posted two ads, both saying how important honesty was, yet the ads gave conflicting facts. (Saying “lies” wouldn’t be polite.)

    I suspected a college Psych student was trying to get a research paper done (“Which ad will get the most responses?” or “Which types of women will respond to each?”. Curious me sent an email pointing out the conflicts and asking what the story was: Student, or someone who just thought women wouldn’t spot the diffs. The non-student, as it turned out, responded, calling me “angry girl”. Then, a little later, he followed up with another:

    “F#ck you! Now, how’s that for honesty you angry seething c#nt :)”

    It was nice of him to include the smiley face at the end.

    Much Appreciated!

    Well, this wasn’t really very productive for anyone. On to the next site.
     

    Tons o’ Tuna

    After I filled out my Tuna Temptation description, TOT decided that my most suitable partners consisted of motorcycle riders. I have nothing against bike riders, but a dude who makes his top gal-snagging picture one which features prominently his bike, car, or dolls (boys like to call their dolls action figures) is likely not the dude for me.

    TOT does have a top team of psychologist-slash-matchmaking experts, however, so they must know my taste better than I.

    Although I’d said I was not a pet owner, many guys TOT chose for me were dog and cat owners. Perhaps I do NOT get asthma when I hang around these animals or their environs too long. I sure am learning a lot from TOT!

    Each time I looked at any man’s description, TOT would adjust my “Super Catches for You!” choices. If I checked out a black man, 80% of my offerings became of darker hue; if I checked out a younger man, my net grew more youthful. TOT thought that a single peek constituted an entire taste trend.

    Is Kitteh Using “Tuna”, Too? (Duh. Of Course Kitteh Would Choose Tuna.)


     

    I decided to search TOT on my own.

    I managed to find a few guys whom I felt were more in my ballpark. For one thing, their self-descriptions showed that they had reasoning abilities beyond “I’m really into riding my two hogs.”

    Golly! I Just Realized One of Those Hogs May Not Be His Bike!


     

    The first prospect in whom I had interest not only didn’t deign to respond, he fled the site immediately upon receiving my query. Take THAT, ego!
     

    Do You Think My Tuna Selfie is Part of the Problem?


     

    The next two and a half hours I spent looking through an uninspiring set of drab descriptions without a hint of creativity or wit. Yet each man claimed he had a “great sense of humor”. They were all playing an excellent joke by hiding it. Even in their photos.

    They Looked Like This Coen Brother

    By the end of that time, I was a bit depressed (and missing Fang–we couldn’t have that). I was also foolishly exhausted–I had stayed up way too late and it was far past my lupus expiration date.

    I’m afraid I strayed off the sanity reservation as a result, and began responding to ads I should not have, in a manner I should not have. I regret a couple of the messages I sent that night, or regret their tone.

    Only One Was Worse Than This Bossy Sign (SOMEone Forgot the Magic Word.).


     

    A couple of the less impolite messages:
     

    Dear Frank,

    In your ad, to be frank, I don’t know what it was that appealed to me, other than your frankness, which came across as frank frankness rather than rank rankness (i.e. the false-osity of a lot of the other males on this site). Not that I can really tell the difference, being Aspie, but I can kinda sorta tell, now that I’m older and less of an Asp–or I like to think I can (and am). –O. Babe  (Nope. In the light of day, clearly still pretty much an Asp.)
     

    Frank Didn’t Respond. Not All Frank-ness Wins Friends.


     

    Dear Athletic-Build,

    Notice one of your interests is “Snowboaring”. They must be much easier to spot against the winter whiteness ; ) –O. Babe
     

    It’s Especially Tricky to Hold a Boar-Spear Steady While on Skis


     

    Dear What-Fit-Are-YOU?

    You say you want a “normal fit” woman. Many woman I see normally fit at least two actress-widths, except in the richer beach areas. The men I see look like they’ve just EATEN two, when it comes to their middles, much though they may wear huge shirts to hide it.

    Interestingly, yours is the first ad I’ve seen that posts only a head shot. –O. Babe
     

    Sexist Modern Dating Expectations Which Women Have Totally Bought Into


     

    Dear Almost-Perfect,

    I’m sailing along, reading your description, which sounds terrific. Then I get to the age data. You’re a 51-year-old man. To contact you, a female “MUST be between 30 and 50″.
     

    Brother. You Men Kill Me. –O. Babe


     

    I had noticed a similar “must” for several other men, so I decided to exclude from my next search all men who wanted to date women 20 years their junior.



    Wanna Guess What Happened?


     

    Which dating site should I try next?



    (In the interests of fairness, “Head Shot” man did write back and claims he is quite svelte below the neck.)
     

    Addendum: For the Ultimate Word on D#ck Pics

    Whether guy or gal, I promise you will be glad you took a side trip to

    The Out of Context Penis, if for the pictures alone.

    Addendum: The Split With Fang

    Fang committed what I consider an unforgivable error–and did it more than once. We needn’t go into what. No, he didn’t cheat on me. He’s a good man. Just not great at the fairness part of being a couple. I still love him, and still don’t know if I made a terrible mistake. Best not to think about it.

    I said, I have to stop thinking about Fang as quickly as possible so that I don’t go running back to–Oh dear: I just had a vision of his arms wrapped around me. Time to get fishin’ again. Sigh.
     
    An Online Sea, No Fish For Me
     

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    29 Comments

    1. You do make me laugh! Your writing is witty and entertaining, though I hope you’re not going to fall for some of those deadbeats!

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      • Barbara, when I logged in this morning, yours were the first words seen, and how very welcome they were! Hadn’t been sure the post had come together. Thank you so much for making my day!

        As for choosing a loser, time will tell, but history has an unfortunate way of repeating. I will try to emulate Maggie’s better example : )

        (BTW, had replied to you first thing today, or thought so, but just saw that no earlier reply is in evidence. Perhaps I was still asleep and dreaming. I think my first dreamed reply was wittier…)

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    2. How in blue blazes did you manage to find a picture of a snowboar???
      Wonderfully funny. But I am also sorry to hear about Fang. Dang, Babe, that sucks.

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      • Re: the snowboar, the amazing interwebs offered a suprisingly staggering number of such from which I was able to choose my favorite–you coulda knocked me over with a curly tusk.

        Re: Fang, thank you very much, Maggie. I am suffering very much. He will not speak to me, so I assume his anger is helping him cope. I think our relationship was to him on a plane with marriage. In that context nothing either of us did should have been seen as unforgivable.

        My life is a long series of wrong choices, and time will tell if this was yet another one. How many older women–any women– find ANY good, faithful, loving man?

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        • Amy peppermintsea.com

           /  2014/04/19

          Hi and thanks for the laugh, it took me back, I recognise so much of that unfortunately 😦 I’d like to offer you hope, firstly that you will get over your breakup. I split with the man I thought I would spend my life with, at 49 I was distraught and it hurt like hell. However 9 mnths later I met a man on match.com ( in my experience a far superior site) who moved in 4 weeks later and we married 10 mnths after we met! So there are good men out there, and although you could say it was luck, I actually worked bloody hard to find him! See my blog for lots more advice 🙂 Good luck & be gentle with yourself.

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          • Hi, Amy!

            Thank you for the hope and the help–I stopped by your site and particularly liked “What Are You Looking For In a Partner?”, which sounds obvious, but really wasn’t, and spoke to me. Will sit down today, make my list, and check it thrice. Then, forget about always having it in my purse–will have it tattooed on my tummy so I can’t lose it, or forget about it should someone with piercing green eyes dim the lights and woo me with cheap wine and corn-free gluten-free crab cakes.

            OTH, that sounds like exactly the bloke I should be looking for!

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    3. I know this was meant as a rhetorical question “How many older women–any women– find ANY good, faithful, loving man?” . They are out there, hon. I think luck plays a very big part in the equation. I’ve made one boneheaded choice after another. Regarding my current marriage, I can take credit for waiting a whopping four weeks before agreeing to living together. That was a risky move. But the gamble paid off. Mostly because of luck. I met him of Tons of Tuna.

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      • Maggie, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. That is wonderful to hear (I am so happy for you both)–but a little terrible, too. “Luck”?

        Think I will blog about this as a bigger topic sometime, but suffice to say that, because of my history with “luck”, even my own dear, dear sister–my true best friend–thinks that I need an exorcism.

        I do remember to focus on and thank God for the many GOOD things (like Fang, and flowers…and Followers : )

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    4. franv32

       /  2014/04/19

      oh no. The Fangtastic Fang is gone? Truly? Am sorry for your heart ache (but my God, seems like you’ll have endless material if you carry on with your online crusade (yes, I think that is the word) to find a decent man). Courage, my love.

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      • Hi, Fran! It’s good to hear from you again! And thank you for the words of support.

        He really was Fangtastic. I wish I could tell you all the full story of why we’re over, but for all that Mexican Fang seemingly exposed him, there’s nothing in it that would embarrass or shame him. I will never do that–and he would never do that to me.

        Although it might be entertaining, I don’t think I’ll be writing about my dates–should there be any!) because some may grow to be more, and along the way a man or two will learn about this blog. How would YOU feel knowing you had been considered blog-fodder? I THINK Tons o’ Tuna was a one-time thing–with the possible exception of blogging about any total bungholes!

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        • franv32

           /  2014/04/19

          laugh. Actually, yes, good thinking re the blog-foddering of the future Mr. Outlier Babe. That wouldn’t do at all.
          There is always dreamy Dara the Dentist……

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    5. Leisa

       /  2014/04/20

      Oh yew, I read your “my fang” blog. Delightful and much more! SO much so I may read another time or two!

      Your writing is quite witty and oh-so-very humorous! Dick pix on Craigs?? Never! A girlfriend and I spent an evening calling some of these Gentle Bens. We couldn’t figure out how a man would think ‘his’ looks any different than allll the others?? Obviously, they were thinking with it ….again!

      Keep on blogging, I love the laugh time! The pictures you attach just add so much more laugh time!!

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      • Leisa! You made it!

        Glad to have you stop by, and thanks for the compliment about my wit/humor. Your OWN line about each guy thinkin’ his d. was unique ’cause he was thinkin’ with it? Cracked me UP.

        So did me thinking about you and your friend’s bold and brilliant idea to phone these dweebs. What did they say? Do tell! And how on earth did you open the conversation?:

        “Hi, big fella–and I know EXACTLY how big you are, from your picture. Come to Mama!”

        Ew. Oh, ew, ew! My stomach’s hurting now I’m laughing so hard at the thought of the two of you…

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      • Ya’ know, Michael, I’m not sure Fran ever saw this. To get to her site, or anyone’s, click on their name. That will take you to their “gravatar”, or online ID, and usually at the bottom of that screen, you’ll see their websites (blogs) shown. You can then click on their blog and go there to make a comment directly to them–their “About” page is a good place, or read a couple of posts of theirs and compliment the ones you like : )

        Thanks for visiting my own blog!

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    6. As my middle sister was entering her profile into the Plenty of Fish database, i was looking over her shoulder at the pickin’s. Needless to say, my BH got a big hug when I got home. Dregs is right.

      Which caused us to develop a list of questions to serve as screeners, none of which she actually posted:

      Do you say “irregardless?” Do you skimp on tipping your waitress? How are your toenails?

      All fine indicators of potential suitability, I thought. The devil is in the details, after all. BTW, my sister married a man she found through this dating service in December. I hope they are happy together.

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      • I’d like to see your other questions.

        Frankly, I’d flunk your grammar test. If you heard me speak, your ears would withdraw self-protectively inside your head (from the profanity, as well, for all my hashmarks). However, I’m with you in spirit. When the boys don’t know the bare rudiments of English, it is difficult to take them sirius.

        Thet tipping test: Yes! For toenails, substitute hair of nose, ears, and eyebrows–for heaven’s sake! One of my four showed up looking like a Muppet!

        How long did it take your sister? (I, too, hope they will be happy forever.) I’m not even getting first DATES, f’r cryin’ out loud.

        This is L.A.: City of youth-worship and city of many shallow folk (not sayin’ I’m all that deep, but my coating don’t blow off with a light draft). It doesn’t help that I’m near-poor (I’ll blog about why) and my credit rating’s in the basement (I’ll blog about why that, too)–I would be leery of a man of whom the second was true, and, by our stage in life, certainly want a good explanation of the first.

        Maybe I have been foolish to have passed up the 20+-year-youngers who’ve sent apparently-sincere messages that show intelligence, wit, and charm–more so than messages from men closer to my age (with a couple of exceptions–furry pet owners, both). At least I could have gotten some fun dates! But my abusive past makes me too susceptible to flattery (the eager puppy, craving affection), and that’s all I need at my stage in life–a short-term high-risk fling. Nope.

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        • The man she met through PoF is one I wouldn’t have considered even talking to. I have chosen to keep my big mouth shut and hope for the best. It amazes me that she would choose to attach herself to somebody of his quality rather than face being alone for a time. Let’s just say that she is overlooking a lot of warning signs.

          About ruling out all the men who have pets….are you sure this is a good idea? Couldn’t you theoretically meet a man for lunch sans dog? See whether it could lead to something good? Perhaps once smitten, he could find another home for his pet? Surely you’ve already considered this and thought better of it, why am I rambling on so?

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          • Barbara, would YOU give up your personal dogs, except in need? I would have a hard time respecting someone who would. Your (generic “your”) dog loves you, deeply and truly, and to kick it to the kerb (Br. spelling works better there, doesn’t it?) when another love comes along–even a human one–seems coldhearted to me.

            There are practical issues, too: I am SO allergic. I am happy that I can currently hang out with dog and cat owners in their homes for a while without getting symptoms. This is because I stay away from them all the rest of the time. The more exposure, the less resistance. Were I to date a man who carried the allergens on his skin or clothes, that would be that. He’d transfer them to MY clothes, MY living quarters. I don’t even have a washing machine where I live. (Which is disgusting to me, by the way.)

            It is not even the dog hair. The theory is that it is the feces of the mites that eat the dog dander. That is how tiny we are talking. Try brushing that off your clothes. You cannot. Only laundering takes care of that. So, unless the man put on freshly-laundered clothes in an airlock, and his animal had never set foot in his vehicle…

            You see my problem?

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            • I do. I was just imagining a scenario wherein you meet a really nice man who can’t live without you and has an equally nice brother who wants to adopt his dog. Hey, they don’t call me Pollyanna for nothing.

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    7. What a dating minefield! I do hope your enjoying better company now. 🙂

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      • Um…nope. I have accepted offers to meet four men. None of the four did I decide were worth pursuing further meetings with, although all were nice gentlemen.

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      • This is true: I haven’t counted, but hundreds of men have “Liked” me and a couple of hundred, I think, messaged me in three months on two sites. I have evidence that four over the age of 40 have bothered to read a word of my dating profiles. The remainder have only looked at my pictures. I am entirely uninterested in anyone who is uninterested in what women have to say–aren’t you?

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        • It goes without saying!! Don’t go near them. 😀

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          • I cannot. The evidence I have is that the first lines of my Profile say I am deadly allergic to dogs and cats and will not date anyone who owns them. These fools who say “I want to meet you” are dog or cat owners. When I call them on it, they get FURIOUS–at me, of course. Kinda fun for me.

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          • ‘Course, it would be way MORE fun to be spending my time dating…sigh.

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    1. An Online Sea, No Fish for ME | The Last Half
    2. The Awesome, The Amazing: “Man Trap” | The Last Half

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