Why I’m Going to Have Sexual/Dimensional Reassignment Surgery
Published: February 06, 2009
Hello loyal Livejournal Wordsmoker readers,
Your resident nerd/tween-superstar Mount_Prion here, with an important message.
Online dating blows. And yet, I still participate.
I recently went on a date with a gorgeous, intelligent woman, with tons of dorky quirks and nifty tattoos. Also, she had big boobs. Everything was going swimmingly until two days later-when she was sober-and she realized we had no romantic future.
There were a number of reasons for this, she said, but the real important one, it turns out, is that I’m “too into music.”
Translation: Your pheromones scream out, “The only thing I’m only good at is masturbating and weeping while Venetian Snares skitters along in the background.”
Well.
Faithful reader, as you can no doubt imagine, such a painful failure brought forth a mighty deluge of angst from deep within my fuzzy chest. When I stopped drinking (alone, in the dark, to Venetian Snares), I awoke and questioned my value as a human being, the fairness of the universe on the whole, and the fairness of OKCupid in particular. I cried.
My profound conclusion: life is not fair.
In the world of online dating, women put in little effort for a surplus of attention, while the overpopulated males must scramble for a nod from anything that still comes with all its teeth and limbs. Admittedly, many of the men who a woman might hear from have the intellectual nuance of krill, but at least the attention is there. If I were a lady of comparable attractiveness to the opposite sex as I am in my current, bepenised state, I think the online dating world would be much easier.
So I’m doing something about it. If you’re thinking the something I’m doing is writing this post, then I applaud your metapacity, but you are wrong.
I have decided to become the perfect woman. Unfortunately, I would make a very hairy woman, but that’s why god created lasers.
And what, dear reader, goes better with lasers than Anime?
So, I will be surgically metamorphosed into a huge-breasted, cyan-haired Anime heroine, with the torso of a centaur, carrying a gigantic double-sided phallic symbol. Also, my breasts will be filled with delicious ramen. Ramen spiced with spirit particles.
You might say that my 3D to 2D, male-human to female-cartoon transition is impossible, but I have faith in science. Science made the bubblegum meatball a reality, so anything is possible in time.
And since all will be possible in the bright, shining future, I will vindicate my murky, angsty history by traveling back in to the past to date myself.
The astute of you will say, “Bring a tissue.”
The astuter of you will say, “Great Scott! If you date yourself, you could disrupt the entire space-time continuum, and potentially throw the entire universe into a naked (heh) gravitational singularity! Flux capacitor! Chronosynclastic infundibulum!”
But the astutest of all will say, “Back to the Future is just a movie. So, worry not, and go fuck yourself. Literally.”
And that’s why I’m unconcerned and finally free of angst. I know that any second now, my brand new self will appear and-
Wait! What’s that cyan glow?
Oh! You saucy centaur, you (me)! Bring that sweet, soup-filled hunk of horsemeat over here and let’s git it awn.
Eh? Does this room suddenly feel smaller to you?! Oh no! I was wrong! How do I even have time to type thi-
THWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWP!
.
A couple of things.
First off, what on earth is “too into music?” What sort of sicko was that woman? There is no such thing as being too into music.
Secondly, your idea has merit. However, I think you need to think a bit more about these ramen-filled breasts. The problem is that when you get hungry, the perfect snack is right there. Yet, to get to the snack you will have to slice into your flesh, causing the ramen to get all bloody and flesh-filled, and really who wants that? What about having screw cap nipples? I think that’s the perfect solution there!
Finally, the world needs more self-love. So, happily I say go forth and fuck yourself! Congratulations on your future and past…or something like that.
OK funny stuff and I love you Mt, but here’s my question to all you young internet dating types: Did they close all the bars?
See that’s the way my generation did it. We went out and got stupidly drunk and tried to find someone who was cute and smart. In that exact order. Often, this required an exchange of words and fluids before we could discover if we were truly compatible. It’s just that I don’t really believe that you can find a match in life if you both feel the same way about Ultraman. It doesn’t hurt that you both like Japanese robot tv serials but its not a basis for you to ever determine compatibility.
I’m not telling you that you’re wrong, but you just gave a pretty good explanation of why online dating sucks. So what about attempting a more flesh-based approach to things? With someone other than yourself that is.
This is the strangest “20 Things About Me” yet.
I TTTTTTTTTTTT A with saythat’scool.
If you are into music – celebrate that. Go listen to live music at a club or bar, and then you can meet someone EQUALLY into music.
I tried the Internet thing and I thought it was awful. I then went and did things I enjoyed – I joined the NY Road Runners Club and did running classes in the evenings, trained for the marathon – met a ton of people. I did “wine school” (they have beer tastings too). Full disclosure: I met my husband in a bar in Union Square.
Do the IRL thing. Personally, I think Internet dating is like Internet job-hunting – you’re sending your info into a black hole, and you always do better by live networking. Grab a buddy and go to some places where YOU feel comfortable, and the you’ll meet people who are ALSO comfortable there, and voila! Instant rapport without the Send button.
Oh I’m doin OK. Thanks for the advice though. I was mainly just trying to be ridiculous. Off to ComicCon with my nerd ass! Later all.
I’m crying from laughing so hard. The whole thing was funny, but the best (THE BEST) part was BEPENISED. You CANNOT become an anime girl or go back in time because you must always be a music-loving bepenised person.
Ditto for Former English Major. If you’re the type of person who likes dating – shudder – then I suppose it’s a good cesspool to look for dead flesh in. Otherwise, I think most of us – especially us twisted malcontents who spend Friday evenings on sites like Fumador de Palabras – are damned to face to face contact.
And anyone who even thinks things like “too into music” should be defenestrated. I broke up with a boyfriend in high school because he said I wasn’t serious enough. He ended up working for National Public Radio. I ask you.
Just do what I did: accidentally meet the woman of your dreams and marry her.
You should SEE the smugness of this expression.
Okay, I loved the hell out of this AND Bringmemytofu’s comment!
I feel lame.
Tofu=funny.
Bepenised, lulz.
@FEM: I met my husband in a bar on St. Mark’s Place. Total sniff and circle dealie. Best way, I have found.
MP, you are adorable; the second best way is getting set up by a bitchin’ chick. So get in touch next week, I am going to get you laid.
Loving Speed Racer together would be cool.
Internet dating is creepy beyond belief.
As for being “too into music,” please know that when I found my true love, who turned out to be the boy I first did the heavy makeout King & Queen thing with so many years ago, I started with a barrage of lyrics and links to the music videos. It was the only way I could explain in addition to the words, words, words I had to write. Last one was “You Only Live Once” by the Strokes. I’m way too High Fidelity in a way. So fucking sorry. How you like me now?
Just going to a show, even by yourself. You meet people. You need this. So I am sending you my love.
Laughing but knowing.
Wait, wait, Mount_Prion….does this mean you and I are going to have our wild passionate affair SOONER or LATER? I have to let the judges know, or they won’t score it properly.
@Bookish-But won’t your husband be jealous?
@Katastic-Depends if you’re more into guys or ramen.
It’s been days and I’m still craving Ramen with spirit particles.
Oooh, found the Gawker clubhouse – jackpot!
This was well written and hysterical. Favorite line: “The only thing I’m only good at is masturbating and weeping while Venetian Snares skitters along in the background.” It’s my favorite because i relate. What the hell did we do before the internet?