bad speller iso drorable gal

i have done a share of internet dating on lustier sites and the more boychik-oriented ones too. playing such games leads to hunch confirmation—the land of bizarro is densely populated.

to wit, this note:

'I look at you and thing you are the most drorable gal I heave ever seen. If you know want a guy that can worship you then forget me'

true, his ability to capitalize puts me to shame. in other ways, though, (spelling, stalking) he's not inspiring heaps of confidence and i think this is one i pass on. meantime, i spoke of nunchucks to the ninja, so we're all in the open now about climbing walls and kickboxing.

today's subway ride was mercifully unlike yesterday's when two people offered me seats. in the a.m, it was a portly, middle-aged man and i gave him the benefit of the doubt about his intention, figured he was being polite to a lady. on the way home, a young redhead, feline/library specs that fixed her on that geek/hipster transom. demured, but wanted to roar, 'i'm not pregnant, goddammmit! it's the goddamn, motherfucking skirt!!'

a particular denim number i have come to loathe after first having come to love. when i wear it, people think i look knocked up (though when i first bought it, i worried it made me look religious in that allegra goodman kind of way).

a couple of years ago, i wore it into a shop that sells crap for animals, and by crap i mean, hand-knit cashmere sweaters for fido, that kind of joint. the clerk asked, 'when are you due?'

she caught hell. consider it a cautionary tale.