Putting the “men” in “entitlement.”

A 27-year-old on OkCupid sent me an intro message the other night, and I wasn’t interested, so I deleted it without responding.

This morning he sent a followup message: “You’re too pretty to give up on. I’m very persistent!”

Sweetie? This brand of “persistence” does not end with you getting the girl. Please don’t make me get all J. Lo in Enough — no one needs to see my midriff, I’m too lazy to learn boxing, and I would look absurd with that haircut. So maybe just quit being a dick.

I’ve also noticed many profiles that say things like, “If I send you a message, it’s rude to just ignore it and leave me wondering. The least you can do is write back to say you’re not interested.” Um, no, actually. The LEAST I can do is ignore you. It’s one click to delete a message. Writing you back adds the effort of keystrokes, so… that’s more I’d have to do, not least. See how words work?

And boo hoo, a stranger finds me “rude?” Not polite and acquiescent like a proper lady should be? I’m sad. No, really. This is my sad face.

If a guy doesn’t respond to my message within a day or two, I don’t wonder — he’s not interested.

Via Body For Wife: She Doesn’t Owe You Shit

Cockblocking Cupid

Honestly, how did people ever end doomed online dating “relationships” without the iPhone’s number-block feature?

What? Is that NOT how I’m supposed to do it?

I’m not an asshole, he is, and a creeper to boot. Trust, this was merited, and sanctioned by a panel of experts.

During the most intense of the phone flirting, you said you wanted to “impale”* me with your dick, and later told me you like your ladies in white cotton underthings, considered aloud that it made you sound a little pedo, but said it anyway? *deep breath* I’m out.

There was more, if that’s not enough.

It’s my fault, really. I should’ve known when I saw his name was “Phyl.” You know, like “Phil,” except you’re an asshole. Goddamn hipsters.

* That’s not just me, right? I realize I’m not exactly after “sweet, gentle, love-making” here — I definitely need to be banged the hell out of. Probably twice, just to make sure we unclench all the Crazy. But isn’t “impale” a tad aggressive? I’d really like to live through this transaction, sir.

“What’s your magic number?”

I’m sure this isn’t true of all women, but I just learned that 11 is the maximum number of times I’ll let a guy who scares me look at my (still photo-less) online dating profile without talking to me.

Sorry, sir, you give me the willies. I’m already wondering who’s gonna play me in the Lifetime movie based on this true story*. Gotta block you.

Also, your username is DanCurvesLeft**, and there’s no part of me that wants that. None of my happy places are to the left. I might be able to work with it, but…you’re creepy. And sure, maybe you’re referring to your baseball pitch, but again, you’re Creepy Creeperson, so I’m not willing to risk it.

*For the record, if you can get Anna Kendrick to stoop to Lifetime movies, she’s my first casting choice.

**Not his real username. I’m a bitch, not an asshole. May he find lifelong happiness with girl who enjoys attention and has an off-center g-spot.

Cheering the fall of Facebook in 2014.

If my personal Facebook had a “You’re approaching Creepy Creeperson” button, I would’ve used it four times already this week.

Maybe also a “You totally missed the joke” button, and a “Hey, my dad can see your comments — can you stop being a fucking perv?” button.

But as it stands, I guess it’s just necessary to do a friends list purge and create some filters. Or maybe just New Year’s resolve to spend less time on my personal Facebook.