most enjoyable are the men judging whether or not the dates are horrible enough
Welcome to Pissing Contest, a weekly story sharing circle for the the ass-draggiest time of the afternoon on the ass-draggiest time of the last day between you and the weekend. Every week, we'll ask a question, you'll share stories, and we'll pick a winner that's featured in the next week's post. It's like a pyramid scheme of outdoing each other!
In theory, the same technology that enables us to find the very best TV for our budget and entertainment needs should serve us well to find people to date. But that theory falls apart quickly if you ask the people who are actually doing the online dating.
I know there are plenty of online dating success stories — I went out on a single online date after joining OKCupid years ago with the person who ended up being my future ex-fiancee (fun story) and I know a handful of rock-solid couples who met online — but for every one successful J-Date or fledgling Tinder romance, there are at least a dozen horror stories along the lines of what Mark published earlier this week. So dust off the least pleasant corners of your memory's inbox and get ready for another round of anecdotes that will make you never want to leave the house or open your computer again. (For inspiration, check out the standouts from the last time we called for bad online dating stories back in 2010.)
But first, let's get to the winner of last week's My First Period Pissing Contest, courtesy of chairness53:
Mine was just humourous. I of course had my first period at my father's house (split time half and half), and it was literally night one of my week with him, and I remember having cramps and not knowing what was going on. It's 11pm (and I'm what - 11, 12?) so when I get up my dad can hear me around upstairs and is probably wondering what I'm doing up. I walk into the bathroom and sure enough. Aunt Flo. Now, I honestly though about just going to bed because I didn't want to go to the store at 11pm at night with my father to buy whatever the things were we needed. I sucked it up, and walked out of the bathroom. There was a spot on the stairs I could see downstairs where his chair was and I just sat there, and said "Dad, I just started my period." I'm pretty sure my fathers exasperated moan could be heard from space, but he immediately headed out to the store (meanwhile I called my mother, crying, and she laughed and laughed at the image of my dad going to the store to get stuff) and came back with EVERYTHING. I shit you not. Every size, brand, and type of thing the Vons down the street offered as a lady stopper. About five bags worth. I'm not really sure what my dad knew about the ferocity of lady-times and how much one actually needed, but I was basically set in that department for a solid year.
Now, onto the bad online dating stories, round 2 of many.
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