Interracial Dating

I’m all caught up!  Every blog entry I could find now resides here in WordPress.  495 of them to be precise.  That is a lot of drivel.  I haven’t tagged, not to mention categorized, all of them but heck.  They’re here.  Unfortunately, for now I can only tag one at a time with WordPress’s UI so … that may not happen any time soon.  Besides, I already know what I’m obsessed with.  Speaking of which…

Jungle Fever

Ladies and gentlemen, a while back I registered on two more personals websites.  InterracialSingles and InterracialDatingCentral.  Not that I don’t love black women, but here’s why.  A friend told me about, which is interesting, fun and quirky.  And as I told him, whiter than a glass of milk sitting on a paper plate in a snow storm.

For those of you who haven’t known me long, I go on, say, Yahoo Personals and others for brief spurts of time.  Until I get bored or discouraged.  One of the things that discourages me most is when I see an attractive, interesting, intelligent, self-described “open minded” woman and in her list of wanted qualities under “Ethnicity” it will say “White” or even worse list every ethnicity except African American.  White women and especially Asian women.

Now, maybe that wouldn’t be so pointedly annoying, like a pointed pebble in your sandals, if not for the fact that some of those say “MATCH!” as in, “You two are perfect for each other.  Send her a message now!”

I need a big Family Feud “X” right here and that harsh skull splitting buzzer sound.

Often, you can tell from the photos that women post.  You just make note of the people in the pictures with her and in the venues in the background.

So I figured that if I tried out interracial dating sites, chances are that if I see someone I like they’ll be more inclined to the African American persuasion.  One level of B.S. skimmed off the top like so much boiled milk skin.  Right?  So I can cut to the chase for other things like … white women who want to date Clinton Portis, basically.  Or Fitty Cent.  Or the white women with babies fathered by black men.  Or the portly white women who know that black men like a little meat on them bones.  Or white women who just cut to the chase of their fantasies and want someone “well hung” and expect to find that hungness on an interracial dating site.

Stuff like this:

Looking for a ” good guy” with a little bit of a bad side, someone that knows what they would like in life, has goals, must love children as I have 2, Just tired of playing games with guys that I have dated in the past, Are there any good men left in this world??? Someone who knows how to treat me with respect

I mean, really.  Aren’t there any good bad men left in this world?  Is it so hard to find a nymphomaniac virgin these days?  Or this:

I am lookin for a man who can keep it real at all times because fellas, I aint got no time for games! I just want a man who can do what he gotta do for himself and his family and treat his woman like a queen. I will definitely treat you the way I want to be treated!

Uh huh.

Of course the main thing I’m finding is black women looking for white dudes BUT the UI allows you to specify that you only want to see people who want to see you (by search criteria).

So it’s interesting.  I mean, I haven’t had any luck but I’ve kind of given up on personals sites anyway.  About once every 3 or 4 months I’m in a state of giving up on them.  But at least I can legitimately look at cute women without risking a restraining order.

Jamaican Me Rum

I think of myself as a bit introverted.  During that wedding episode in September I had a realization.  So obvious but then again most of them are.  I realized that 90% of socializing is done while drinking or drunk.  I’m sometimes impressed or “impressed” by the way some people are the life of the party.  They’ll just jump right in.  Talk to anyone, dance to anything.  Maybe be warmly affectionate.  Push the envelope of social conduct — grabbing asses, frotteurizing, flirting shamelessly, invading personal space — and get away with it.  And I wonder, “How come I can’t do that?”

Well, they’re drunk.  That’s how they do it.  Fueled by a li’l liquid courage.

Go get ’em, tiger.

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