So it's been awhile. Mostly because I've been out whoring myself around on this thing called "online dating'. Super fun, guys.
If you can't read the sarcasm there, you don't belong here. Actually, scratch that... DON'T LEAVE ME.
I met someone. He was awesome. We had fun. I thought it was going somewhere. He pretended it was. (Maybe?) It wasn't. And here I am, full of blog fodder, because if online dating is good for one thing: It's telling everyone about it!
This one isn't about Mr.Not Right Now though... this is about a date I had about two months ago; one that while completely awesome in theory, reconfirmed that I'm old. And may have made me cry. I won't confirm or deny.
We have this place locally that's basically a large wearhouse suited up in giant trampolines with dodgeball, foam pits and basketball. Other than it not being air conditioned (like WTF?) it appears to be the best fucking time in the whole wide world because whodoesntlovetrampolines?!?!
THIS LADY RIGHT HERE.
Did you know that after two kids and age 30, your bladder control is actually completely fucked? Yeah, I didn't. I had heard stories, but it had never happened to me. Until this day. And I wore white shorts.
For real guys. I peed a little every single time I jumped. Ever. Single. Time.
Do you know how hard it is to hide small wet stains in white shorts? Well let me tell you... Impossible. I went to the ladies room 3 times on that date with the excuse that I had drank WAY too much water beforehand.
And on one of those trips? I got busted drying my crotch with the hand dryer.
Strangely enough, this guy didn't appear to have noticed my wet shorts, as he wanted to continue dating. Sadly, it wasn't there for me. Maybe because I couldn't let go of the fact that I peed 372 times on our second date.
One Year Anniversary Show Tomorrow in NYC!! - awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww shittttttttttttttt. I hope you guys are thurrrrrrrrrr. http://www.littlefieldnyc.com/event/608323-awkward-sex-city-brooklyn/ Nikki Glas...