Some marriages have the arrangement where the mother works and the father stays at home. Well, I’m looking for a unique relationship with an even greater level of commitment. I’m hoping to be the worker, the one who takes on all the stress in return for your almost debilitating commitment. If you already have a disability that prevents you from easily getting around (or away) that’s even better. In my ideal relationship the man never leaves the bed, he spends his days watching back-to-back Simpsons episodes, yelling at the kids to “stop doing whatever you’re doing!” from the bed and when I get home there’s the sweet smell of sweat, bacon and poop permeating the air. A typical weekend might involve a few sightings of you in the living room with your Jersey shorts and bacon stained wife beater scratching the back of your neck and asking “So, whatcha got goin on today?” As I begin to tell you about my plans, mid-answer you interrupt and announce, “okay, well, I’m goin’ back to bed.” Since you own fifty pairs of Jersey shorts and somehow manage to wear them all in a weeks time there’s always bonus work for me to do when I get home. On the plus side I throw out all the ones with poop smears or holes in the crotch and it cuts down the workload SIGNIFICANTLY. Occasionally, I’ll notice you are in the bathroom because it sounds like someone is watching Gladiator or that movie 300. Your humor will primarily revolve around bathroom humor, for instance downing a can of beans while in bed than farting and asking “Too soon?” As far as our sex life there’s nothing hotter than doing it doggie style and realizing your hand is on a smooshed mac and cheese sandwich or feeling the sharpness of Pringles underneath your kneecap. I know it’s hard to imagine this kind of arrangement since it’s pretty cutting edge…just think Charlie and the Chocolate factory Uncle Joe on tranquilizers.
It’s a tall order and in this society where it’s customary for men to work and women to stay at home, to have a woman work and have a man do jack shit and be generally disgusting is pushing the norms. I basically would like to be that chick that every guy wants. I tried to do that with makeup, by being super skinny and eventually resorting to getting an education. Finally, I’ve discovered how to be what every man wants and in turn I get what I want, crippling loyalty.
I'm a bi-sexual man in my late 60's, an eccentric, who is looking for a man or a woman that wants to get back to some vintage kinks. Remember when we used to play a good game of corn horn? Or dingle dongle with a side of butt chips...that was great fun! What about old man dingle stix, raw potato breath or honeycomb butt shooters. I know, compared to what the kids are doing now this is all very mild, but it used to work for us so why wouldn't it now? Even just for nostalgia sake.
Some of the new positions are straight up intimidating: The Mannheimen Steamroller, Cleveland dumps, Screwnicorn's, Duck Dy-Nasty's. I don't even have the agility or strength to perform some of these. Last time I had an orgy, I had to hold a diagram I'd printed from the net and even then...hours later...couldn't figure it out and we all ended up watching old Jeopardy reruns and eating Pizza rolls.
If you are interested in playing antique roadshow, sex position edition, give me a ring. Oh, yeah, don't have landlines anymore...send me a text.
My name is Tammy and I'm proud to say that I am returning to the dating pool after a long hiatus. Sixteen years ago I was struggling with my identity. I bought a Geo Tracker, cut my hair short and quit my job so I could go across country with my friend Tina on tour with the Indigo Girls. I have to admit I did go to the mountains, I did look to the children and I definitely drank from the fountains. The one thing I did not do was the whole doctor thing. Anyway, things with Tina and I did not end well. I lost her at the Lillith Fair and somehow she teamed up with someone else after knowing them for fifteen minutes. After dealing with my PTSD from this, the doctors finally prescribed something that works: Tridixagain.
Now I don't want to sound like a commercial, but Tridixagain opened me up to a whole new world. I certainly was very closed up and really unable to be penetrated by anyone. I didn't even know what I was searching for, I just needed someone to throw me a bone so I could jump on it and simply devour every inch. Tridixagain gave me the nudge I needed to allow myself to be vulnerable and accept packages the universe was sending me that I had been ignoring for years. I'm putting myself out there because I believe I'm ready for a deep relationship. The deeper the better, really. Please contact me if you think you are also capable of extending yourself into this new territory. Tamile
Hi, my name is literally Gary. I'm not sure why I said literally, now it seems like I'm lying. Uh, this is not going how I planned already, but okay. I'm not a fast cars kinda guy if that tells you something. I actually own a Corvette, but I always hover around five below the speed limit. For my job, I process the credit card approvals for merchant accounts. At night I like to have exactly one Coors light and then watch The Voice followed by the news. There are a lot of things I do for fun. I've gone skydiving before, with my co-workers, but I went to hand out sandwiches. I'm sorry, but there's no way would I be caught dead jumping out that door of the plane. I've gone to Disney World twice, but I mostly just walked around enjoying the architecture. My dad worked for NASA, but he died when I was just two years old. Some of my hobbies include keeping an eye on the neighbors dog (I don't get paid or anything, I just look at him through my window), reading literature ("Literature" is the name of a magazine I'm subscribed to that is just an index of old books) and re-potting already potted plants hence the re-potting part so they can go potty in the pots and not in my empty plots out in the yard. It sounds more complicated than it is. Yes, so it never gets real lonely, with so much to do. I am fairly busy, but figured I might be able to put a little time aside to find that special person that would like to join the ride. This roller coaster goes in a circle for about a half hour and then drops you off feeling like you should get paid for your participation. Yes, it does, so what do you say...ticket for one?
So I'm 33 and by now I KNOW I have a type. Mama's boys. Single mom's specifically OR with multiple in and out step dad's. TB mama's boys need apply! The more helpless you are, the better! I mean I need a man that makes me feel seriously useful. You might have some things I'm lacking, like the extreme undeserved self-esteemed you garnered from your adoring mother...mine always made me work for approval and even then I'm still not good enough. Fortunately for you this has made me quite the provider.
You might play an instrument (the guitar most likely) and do an amazing song and dance, but I will be the one that will keep you from starving because you just didn't think to eat.
You're lucky that your mother filled you up with a full tank of love. Can I leech or I mean beseech you to share some of that? I see you and I just want to own you or I mean, own that kind of confidence. Perhaps if you become dependent on me, like you were on your mother...you'll never leave?
If you don't know quite how to respond, just email me and I'll help you.
Yo, yo, yo I got a fat wrap here m'bout to drop. Forget your pansy ass vape god boyfriend, you need a real man that puff's tuff. You need a man that you can bring home to your mama and say proudly "This man rolls his OWN blunts." That's right, mom. I got white widow, white tiger, purple haze, orange kush, mango chutney, gray cookie dough, stinky sailor, raggity old man, train obliteration, international emergency, ticket to brown town, domestic terrorism and a bunch of other sh*t. Maybe you had a bf that had a good job or was good in that sack, BUT did you ever go out with a real man that could push mad clouds, I'm talkin' 3 foot smoke stacks!
Check it, check it...imagine you return home from work and you see me on the couch with my homies, we all got hoodies and there's a beautiful smokescape just filling the room. You can smell the stank and I'm like "Here baby girl" and I got a freshly rolled tight ass spliff. It literally only took me two seconds to roll that. I got the skillz, I'm tellin' you. But that's all I'm gonna tell you, you gotta read the book to find out the rest. Email me Spliffgenius95067.
You are a man that goes to the Women's march alone, you are gender liquid and see all animals as equal. You would skin a human if it meant just one animal would have a coat. You eat Pho for breakfast and between your cryptozoology course and your tree climbing class you spend your time on Whatsmydiagnosis.com. It says you worry too much. Let's go out and invent drinks for the bartenders to make: Captain's Hats, Booze Portals and Bloody T-shirts might be a few. You have your own podcast all about board games. You look like Buddy Holly meets Michael Bluth meets Big Foot. Your beard is enough to keep a small infantry unit warm for a week. Preferred instruments: The Banjo, Ukulele, Microphone and Xylophone. You really know how to shred it on the Xylophone. Sometimes you wear one glove just to show people that you care, but also don't give AF. You are not afraid to wear a cross, ironically. You were raised by people that own chickens and goats and only eat organic. Does this sound like you?
Boot here, got a million things on my mind. First off, been gettin' some odd requests from the ladies. Times are achangin' and gone are the days when guys were the only ones takin' dips in the pervert pond. Used to swim laps myself, but with my re-injury I've been homeward bound eatin' humble pie and impotent ice cream. You know it's about as pleasurable as eatin' french fries with no salt. Anyway, one of these requests a lady wanted to lick my boot! Now I might be into some slow kisses, but straight up licks you may as well eat a bag of warts. Another one asked if she could put me in a bib and feed me soft peas. FYI, just cause I have chronic shin-juries doesn't mean I can't use my arms and eat all the crab legs my food stamps can afford.
Bout ready to merge into the datin' lane again. Been spendin' some time on my recent divorce and hiring an accountant to count my kids. Meanwhile, I'm flirtin' with Disaster (an out-of-work drag queen that goes to Christian Hell, one of the bars in my rotation) and finding odd jobs off Craigslist. If you want to schedule a date, I'll be avail mid-April it looks like and if you need a guy to haul dirt, spin your business sign, fix your computer or walk your dogs (I got a CNA license last time I was in Mexico too so adult diapers, no problem) I'm your guy.
Well here goes nothin'. My last ad brought in approximately zero men, two women (which I'm not into) and over 60 ads for cat hospitals and insurance. The insurance companies will not cover me due to the fact that I have an illegal amount of cats. For my zoning area I'm entitled to three house pets, meaning both dogs and cats, and I exceed that by 489. When the agent came over to interview me I tried to hide most of them in the two rooms, but the cats began to mew in unison and it was beyond humanly possible to mute the amplified Meow that was happening about every four seconds. I still have nightmares about it. Anyway, my therapist has told me not to bring up my cats to anyone so let's talk about you. What kinds of creatures do you like? If you saw someone without a home, hypothetically, would you be okay just to let them hobble around on one leg eating old tuna out of the garbage or would you take them in and wipe the old milk off their face, hold them at night and turn your whole bathroom into a pee area? I think that says a lot about your character. I realize I can't be overly picky and that my standards might be too high for what I've been looking for in a partner so if you answered "no" to that question, that doesn't disqualify you from coming over. Let's arrange a time to meet so I can go out and buy Febreeze in bulk at Costco, cover my couch with an industrial blanket and arrange a landscaping company to come by and pick up the bags of hair. Really excited to see the response! Yours truly!
My name is Shane, been on here multiple times. There seems to be a misunderstanding and it's weird because I originally came on here trying to get someone to take a dump on me. No, not the metaphorical one...not mistreat me, but the literal one...I mean two. I had a bad experience though involving a girl, a bowel movement and a large serving spoon. So then I clearly announced in my last ad that I am no longer taking any shit. Suddenly, I'm getting hit up left and right from all over the globe. I don't get you girls, do you just want what you can't have or are you all just full of shit? If you're full of shit, you're gonna need to find another guy to dump on...I'm not that guy.
What if the tables were turned, huh? You want guys aggressively trying to take a shit on you? It's kinda scary, honestly. One girl sent me an email and the subject line was a pair of lips and ten poop emoji's with google eyes. I got PTSD okay? (Poop triggered stress diagnosis). Another girl wrote me a response "Honey you're gonna need a shovel." See, this used to be innocent waste disposal with a sexy twist, now it's like I need a hazmat suit and OSHA training. It shouldn't be that hard to digest, but what you have is going to have to go to another specimen, I'm done with meeting random girls and letting them go to smear town on my landscape.
With that said, a little pee might be okay. IM me for chat...