Friday, September 4, 2009


This is a dangerous game I’m playing. I’m bound to offend someone. If that someone is you, please stop reading my blog.

To my friends:
If you see me out on a date with one of these fortunate fellows, please don't mention this blog. They don't know they're part of a social experiment and I would like to keep it that way. Obviously, it would ruin everything.

I will tell a few stories that are not my own. I'll let you know which ones didn't happen to me, but if you recognize the story, please don't identify the guilty party.

I may exaggerate to juice up the story. Or just to be funny. And by exaggerate, I mean lie.

To my dates:
For those of you I have been on dates with, you are allowed to hate me even though I may have said I’d like to be friends. That’s probably not true anyway. I will be writing very embarrassing & humiliating things about you. I won’t ever use your name, but you will know who you are. If you would like to remain anonymous, I suggest that you don’t identify yourself by commenting about what a shallow bitch I am. This is all in good fun. Well, not really. It’s a laugh at your expense. I’m very sorry, but I have no choice.

I have made the moral decision (surprise!) not to write about any of these experiences while dating is in progress. That is, I will wait until things are done with the fella before I write about him. Should something magically materialize with my current man-friend, I would hate for him to read about himself here. If you are reading about yourself as the subject of my mockery, I'm sorry this is the way you're finding out, but I don’t think you’re the one for me. It won't be necessary for you to buy me dinner again. But thank you.

To Lucy:
This will be a great disciplinary tool for you. You have a hard time keeping your mouth shut about anything, especially when you’ve got a little booze in the hatch. But you will not be allowed to tell your dates that you’re writing this, even though it's on your mind. Don't show him the tape recorder you keep in your purse. Don't show him the jotted notes you have shoved in your iPod case. Would you like to be on a date with someone who tells you the story of the night will be plastered all over the internet? Well, I would, but most people wouldn't. Tick a lock.

To my mom:
Sorry about all this. I'm gonna be a lady someday.


  1. don't fizzle out. you got me primed up for some good story tellin

  2. Don't worry. There will be no fizzling. I just want to lay out the ground work before I spill the beans.

  3. See? You don't even have to spill word one of the real dirt, your prose supports itself! BooK!