Clowning Around

Sorry Bozo, take your clown show elsewhere...

The latest dating kafuffle:

I think I almost went on a date with a clown. Like a literal clown, not just the typical idiot who acts like a clown that I find myself out with regularly. I mean I know my life resembles a circus regularly, but this is a bit much. Let me explain....

So there is this guy, let’s call him Krusty the Clown. Krusty and I had met online and chatted on the phone for a few hours 2 months ago while we both happened to be driving to our homelands. Surprisingly, he past my rigorous phone test and I actually found him endearing, even though his annoying GPS was constantly going off because he kept on getting lost. Ahhh, a man who has no sense of direction, much like myself. Granted, perhaps he past the initial assessment because I was driving 80 mph and anyone who has ridden with me knows that my little convertible with a loud sports muffler is far from a quiet ride at that speed.... Anyway, I probably only heard half of the conversation we had at best and I’m guessing I let my imagination fill in the details I couldn’t hear. Anyway, it was a good chat and then a week later when we spoke again briefly prior to his drive back to Chicago, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with him. I should have known (and paid attention) better...

Krusty, though repeatedly calling and texting me like a stalker, followed by totally ignoring me for a whole month, ended up blowing me off twice for tentative dates, something a sasstastic girl like myself, doesn’t take too kindly too. Sooo, it was to my absolute delight, when one day last week he started texting me again...BINGO! It was now time for some ruthless Scorpio revenge.

In one text he asked me what my last name was and stupidly told me what his was. Now many of you know, that I am the finest investigator there is out there. I can track dirt on anyone simply by knowing where to go on the internet. What? Anyone can do it, it’s all free info that’s out there, I just happen to know how to put the puzzle pieces together better than most and when you encourage me to track your past, you’re damn skippy I’m going to do it! Anyway, being the good little secret agent I am, I naturally DETEST when anyone asks too much information of myself, not that there is anything all that exciting about me out there, I just like to keep the guise of “mysterious” for upper hand purposes. Trust me, once I like you I will spew story after embarrassing story about myself and the dumbass things I’ve done and will have no shame in doing so...however, to get to that point, you’re going to have to do a lot to garner trust and make it to my inner circle dwelling.

Continuing on...

So naturally, I didn’t respond to his inquiring text, buzz off dude, I’m NEVER going to make it that easy for you! Instead of course, I insta stalked him online. First fun piece of information: court records indicated that he used to have a business that was revoked for not paying taxes...scandalous, but what made it all the more juicy was the name of the business... I did a quick Google and couldn’t find much, but I suspect his business was children’s entertainment for hire, meaning he more than likely was a creepy clown or pervy magician! Umm, yuck! Next nugget of fun, his Facebook page. The profile wasn’t all that exciting until I happened to glance at the section which listed his favorite books. Per a quick Amazon scouring, the first several titles were self help Christian dating books. Yikes, Shaggy, that’s scary! The cherry (Bahahahaha!) on the sundae though, was the book about giving orgasms. WHAT? REALLY? You list all these bible beater dating books to get in good with the Brides of Christ Crew and then list a sultry Kama Sutra-esque book on how to be a good lover trying to proclaim to the Facebook community about your mastery of bedroom skills?? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND DOES THAT? Eeeew! Listing these books is essentially the equivalent of boys who proclaim what good kissers they are...and FYI, in every instance that some dude has uttered that phrase to me; it has literally been the polar opposite.

Did I also mention I found out that he doesn’t drink, like AT ALL? Which, of course, this only leads me to believe he is either a recovering drunk and/or he is a Jesus Crispy (Krusty?). Either way he can’t be trusted. Anyone who finds wine, dirty martinis or vodka sodas to be repulsive works of the devil is not someone who I want to swap spit with.

This was never going to work for eight million obvious reasons. Plus, I can’t take you serious if for your day job you wear more make up than I do. That’s wear I draw the line.