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Really Big Mean Dog Presents: Lowered Expectations

December 9, 2014

 

I think today might actually be Christmas, I’ll let you decide.- HRM Queen Kelly Region of Mean

Hai everybody.  So, I went out today IN PUBLIC and bought me a Christmas Tree.  Which I had to bring home in the back of a Camaro because 30 year old cars are just how I roll.  I bought her off the assembly line and I have had her ever since.  I have had other cars, cars that I murdered most heinously, but Rocket Dog is still sort of rolling.  I digress.  Getting that Christmas tree made me feel all kinds of festive and so in the spirit of Christmas I decided that the giving of presents was in order.  Since we all know that I can’t even afford furnace oil, it was going to have to be something I made, or maybe just a good deed or something.  The universe (which I am hoping to be declared supreme ruler of) is indeed kind because it didn’t just hand me one good deed I could do, it handed me two of them and if you count this blog, which I sincerely suggest you do not read while drinking anything hot, three good deeds.

E-Harmony is all great and stuff, Christian mingle is a thing, but what about all those less than…pleasant people?  Don’t they deserve dates too?  I say they do, so I invented Lowered Expectations for the more difficult to find dates for.

Our first Candidate goes by the initials PV.  I happened across what is allegedly her dating profile and it was just so, so wrong.  Remember what I said about giving and good deeds and stuff.  Well, my good deed is going to be to fix it for PV, whoever that might be.   This is what PV wrote.

sandras-dating-site-profile

pv-dating-profile-part-2

Now, this is a perfectly vanilla cry for someone, anyone to date her, but you can see the problems almost immediately.  We at Lowered Expectations believe strongly in reality and so I have re-written this desperate plea in hopes that someone, anyone will give PV a chance.

Okay, I’m going to re-write because this is mostly bullshit anyway so hang tight, or just judge me by my 30 to 40 year old pics. HA!

Update: After reading over every single profile in an attempt to find someone, anyone who might date me (which you would think would be easy because as I am fond of saying, I hit the genetic jackpot and what matters more than looks)?  I am creative and when I say that what I mean is that I will just make shit up on a whim and keep saying it until even I believe it is true. I can always find solutions for problems and challenges by threatening and posting information on peoples home addresses just in case one of my flunkies wants to pay a visit.  I am also very good at hand to hand combat.

I am from the South.  Not the demure ladylike South, more like the South Bronx if it was actually in the South. Which it sort of is…I guess.   I am totally closed minded and the most judgmental person you will ever in this lifetime meet.  If you don’t believe me, read my blog sometime. HA!

I am completely illogical and irrational and my favorite hobbies are stalking, making up stories about actual journalists and posting pictures of myself when I was 20 years old.  I care very much about making each and every interaction that I have with others as miserable as possible.  It makes me feel less inferior than I usually do.  I especially love picking on the old and infirm and along with my best friend Joe, making fun of people with facial scars from domestic abuse.  Nothing makes me happier than when I can make someone cry.  They are all freaks anyway and so they don’t matter.  Oh, I almost forgot, I also love to take screen shots all day long and then use them in the blog that I write.  It gives me a purpose.

So, in a nutshell what I am looking for in a potential mate is a lonely, insane frustrated wannabe investigative reporter like myself who must be deaf, mute and similarly Stabby obsessed to listen to me talk nonstop…Must also hate jews, homosexuals, sane people, juan martinez and Jen wood…preferably male,…must love cats, and dead rats.  Fish lovers need not apply.

 

 

RBMD peacing the fuck out.

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