the streak continues

Just got back from a date. The fact that I'm writing this at 10pm should be some sort of indication as to how it went. The date was perfectly nice but REALLY quiet and not all that charismatic. The best way to my heart is through my funny bone. Failing that, compelling discussion where we reach common ground and discuss shared experience will suffice. None of the above.

And now is when we commence with the shallow (okay, MORE shallow) portion of the post: The date wasn't unattractive but she didn't do it for me either. She had really bony fingers which kind of unsettled me. They were like the hands of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come pointing at Scrooge's tombstone. The jeans and sensible black shoes combo didn't bowl me over either.

I'm awful, evil and wrong, I know. But this online dating thing just isn't working. So I hereby say, fuck you Spring Street Networks! I'm through with you. Between the winks/collect calls, the bony-fingered mutes, the Champion sweatshirt-wearing-and-allergic-to-everything-without-a-trace-of-a-sense-of-humor twits as well as the inordinate amount of butchy correction officers who contact me, I've had enough. I've got a few credits remaining -- who wants 'em?