HUNTING THE PETITE PIRANHA

In the comments under a post over on another blog, Tzipporah suggested that the type of women I prefer look anorexic. Not that they actually were anorexic, just that they looked it. While being able to tuck away twice what a chubby OJ downs at seudah shlishi.

That isn't strictly accurate. But I do indeed prefer a woman with a healthy appetite.

[My ex weighs 96 LBS. That is not anorexic, just small. Fine boned, ring-size 3¼. She shops in the boys department for shirts and jeans. But she eats twice as much as I do. Easily.]

I like sharing food - which cannot be done with someone who obsesses about her weight, nor with someone who has culinary blinkers and avoids everything which is good to eat.
Food-wise, and intellectually, there has to be a critical thoughtfulness. If a woman cannot hold her own, how on earth can one talk with her? And if she turns up her nose at too many foods, dining becomes dull.

A woman with brains and an appetite is infinitely more desirable than any amount of Marilyn Monroe or Shirley Temple.


This, you will understand, easily raises a question: where and how is a presently single blogger going to find another woman to share his life?


It's a pressing problem. My social life and daily ambit are not conducive to ever finding someone else.


Especially as there are NO WOMEN in San Francisco!


Leastways, no suitable women - what we have is either very self-impressed Wasps from back east or the Midwest, many of whom are far! too! good! for anyone out here, or pierced and tattooed unique individualists who are 'rebels' and 'artists'. As well as being from back east or the Midwest. There is a substantial overlap between the self-impressed and the tattooed.
We also have a lot of women who are into shopping, shoes, handbags, and Hello Kitty - cute but scary as all gitout.
Plus pot-heads and strung-out meth freaks (see overlap mentioned above).

The number of eligible young ladies is so utterly small as to be invisible.
And obviously they're hiding from us presently single bloggers.


The other question is what do I have to offer a woman?

I am not sure that I can answer that question. Though still full of piss and vinegar, I am no longer particularly fresh. Savage Kitten insists that I'm a dashed handsome young fellow - but this is the same person who at times called me a 'crazy old git'.
I'm not exactly social either. My favourite activities are reading, taking walks, and heading out to an Indian restaurant with someone for a spot of curry (which I haven't done in many months).
Occasionally I will disappear to smoke a pipe, and late in the evening I may pop out for a nightcap.
Despite my ex's assertion that I am eccentric to the bone, you can see from what I have outlined that I am refreshingly normal, pedestrian even. This entire blog is a testament to that fact.
A talent for perverse affection and buying flowers does not add up to any great charisma.

This blogger is hardly the most exciting or promising prospect for any woman.


So, other than gluing my nose to a health club window, joining a cult, or lurking near a high school with a cooler full of bubblegum vodka and several chilled cocktail glasses, I am at a loss.


Suggestions - especially creative, snarky, or off-the-wall suggestions, are positively welcomed.
Not that I'm willing to try anything to find a mate, but I really could do with a good laugh.

[Of course, if YOU could do with a good laugh, you could go over to Treppenwitz for some necrotic dog colon. Don't ask.]


Please leave comments. Thank you.


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