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Welcome to my blog on dating in Los Angeles.  I hope you find my real life stories and anecdotes on being smart, sexy and single in the City of Angels as amusing (and tragic) as I do.  If you enjoy reading my posts, please share this blog site with your friends, family, loved ones, and less loved ones.  

Please check out my Sex and the City style novel Blow Me—available now in e-book and paperback on my website and lulu.com. Also available in ebook on amazon.com and Google books.

Entries in Online Dating (16)


7 Worst Dating Profile Lines For Men

Women who venture into online dating are inundated with winks and emails, often with nothing more than a comment like “I think you’re hot” or worse—a generic message that has obviously been blasted out to several women. A woman learns how to quickly scan a man’s profile for red flags so she can promptly delete (and block) those who aren’t contenders and move onto the next eligible bachelor.  Here are a few ACTUAL profile lines that I have come across that do not go over well:

1.  She must be pretty, in shape, smart, have a good heart, have a great sense of humor and love sex with the right man: What if she loves sex with the wrong man? It sounds like you’re saying “likes sex but is not a slut” and if that is what you’re saying, don’t say it!

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Top 5 Online Photo Don’ts For Men  

Photo courtesy of comedian Peter Karinen. His NBC web series, Single Dads was recently written up in the NY Times If a picture's worth a thousand words, you don’t want those first words to be “ew, gross!” or “what a loser!” There are many ways in which you can enhance your online profile photo, but there are infinitely more ways in which you can deter women from ever communicating with you. Here’s my list of the top 5 online photo don’ts:

1. Don’t have a shirtless photo: She knows you want to see her naked. The reverse is not necessarily true - especially at the beginning.  Where’s the mystery?  Keep your photos tasteful and do not allude to anything sexual.  If she had a topless photo of herself on her profile, you’d assume she was an escort. Is that what you’re trying to convey, that you’re a gigolo?

2. Don’t have a photo of you in front of a sportscar: It says, “I’m a loser with a small d*ck, but you will appreciate me for my material possessions.”

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7 Online Dating Profile Don't's for Men

Sadly, I’m a bit of an expert at online dating.  Having navigated a variety of dating sites on and off over the past several years, I have seen everything – and I mean everything!  Thanks for sharing, guys, but there are some things I’d rather you just leave to my imagination.

There are profiles that impress a woman and those that repel.  To impress, your profile must stand apart from the others.  It’s amazing how many guys put no effort into their profile. Hot tip: no effort into online profile translates for women to no effort into relationship. It’s a good idea to personalize your profile and not just check off the “likes” and “dislikes”. You don’t want to let your ‘lazy’ show. If you’re going to invest hours in surfing the sites looking for that special someone, start out by investing five minutes in writing something about yourself.  Make sure it’s sincere, original and be sure to employ spell-check.  

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My Date With Shrek

Courtesy of Dreamworks

Is food poisoning better than a first date?  If you’ve read any of my blog, you’ll probably agree that there are definitely times when heaving over a toilet bowl wondering if you will die from some mutant strain of lethal e.coli bacteria sounds like a delightful way to spend an evening.

I was contacted online by a man who seemed charming, gracious and kind – excellent qualities – and agreed to a phone call, during which I detected just a little of the “I think I’m funnier than I actually am” syndrome. Turn off.  But,  I hadn’t been on a date in a while and needed some material for my blog.  What great lengths I go to for my readers! He offered to take me to Melisse, my favorite restaurant in Los Angeles, where I could order whatever wines I wanted. He would arrange a car service to pick me up and drop me off, so I could get to and from dinner without a DUI. Nice!

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5 Dating Resolutions for 2011

Long before The Secret, I had a boyfriend who made me a “vision board” by pasting photos, words and magazine clippings on a big piece of construction paper. It represented who I was and where I wanted to go in life. While this man never supported me financially (in fact, it was the other way around), he got bonus points for being emotionally supportive of my career. Without him, I would have never become a writer nor would I have moved to the United States.

He was the little voice that said “you can do this” as I wrote magazine articles for 50 cents a word and copy for medical brochures (yawn) and real estate brochures (more yawns). I would come home after a long day at my ‘paying gig’ of producing commercials, and he would have music playing, champagne to toast the sunset together, and a bubble bath drawn and lined with candles for me to unwind in while he prepared a gourmet dinner. For years I had the vision board on my wall, probably right until The Secret became popular. Then I tucked it away somewhere, a little embarrassed that it was now the thing to do.

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Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger…

But she’ ain’t, and here’s proof…

I recently agreed to a date with a man from Vegas who dabbles in real estate (to the tune of several hundred million) and has a house on the water in Newport Beach, approximately an hour drive from L.A.  As he was driving up from Newport to meet me at the Roof Garden Restaurant at The Peninsula Beverly Hills, he called from his Maybach (one of two he owned, along with a long list of other penis cars including two Bentleys, a Porsche racing car, a Ferrari, and my personal favorite – a Cadillac Escalade, or as like to call it “The Compensator”). Evidently he had no idea how to use the GPS in his $430,000 toy, as he normally had a driver.  Today was my lucky day.  I got to give him block-by-block directions from the 405 freeway to the destination, a mere 1.2 miles away, and he still managed to get turned around a half dozen times.  

© Glenn Francis www.PacificProDigital.comHe finally arrived and ambled over to the table where I was seated – smack dab center of the patio.  A towering 6’4”, he looked and sounded like a distant relative of Herman Munster with long gangly arms, nails bitten to the quick, and saggy alcoholic eyes like Larry Hagman, circa 1995, prior to his liver-transplant. At the time, Larry Hagman was 64 and not well; my date claimed to be only 52.  I was a huge fan of Larry Hagman in I Dream of Jeanie and Dallas, but that didn’t make me want to date a celebrity look-a-like. Despite Munster’s stated youth, he kept talking about his bucket list, which included going to every Nascar race in the world, every major league baseball stadium in the US, the US Open, The French Open, Wimbledon and the Australian Open, and pretty much every sporting even under the sun.  I could take the tennis matches and the Monaco Grand Prix would be kinda cool, but it is a rather lame bucket list if you ask me.  If that was the list and he wanted to do it with me, I would hope that he’d kick the bucket sooner than later.  It certainly doesn’t match my bucket list, partly because I’m too young to have one yet.  Other than talking about his list, he talked about his real estate holdings – thousands and thousands of acres in Vegas, Dallas and Dana Point.  He admits to having barely graduated high school (like I didn’t notice) and learned everything he knows about business from reading books by Bill Gates, Warren Buffet and the likes.  Mr. Munster never asked me one thing about myself.  When he did refer to me, he made asinine jokes, such as “Did your mother lift weights, because you’re a real dumbbell.”  Now, that would be marginally funny, if he weren’t such a dumbbell himself and if I actually were a dumbbell.  But, since my IQ registers at least double his, it was rather pathetic.  He then bragged about how many one-line zingers he had stored in his head and I thought that is exactly where he should keep them.

During the agonizing two-hour brunch, the service staff all but vacated the premises and got me wondering if I had overlooked a fire alarm drill.  Finally brunch ended and we made our way to the valet parking where he waited for his Maybach, which was parked out front on proud display. As I was paying for my parking (he did not offer to pay), he asked me how much it was and made a comment on how he’d have to give the valet more than a $10 for his car since that would only be a $2 tip.  He pulled out a twenty.  Still not offering to pay for my valet.  I guess he left his manners in the glovebox of the Maybach.  In this era, it is standard dating protocol for a man to pay for a woman’s parking or taxi, as it is no longer acceptable for a man to pick a woman up at her home on a first date (due to safety reasons, though it is always polite to offer).

With a house in the best development in Summerlin, the most elite suburb of Vegas, a waterfront home in Newport Beach, and his various toys – I can only assume private jet was on the list – this guy would be a magnet to the multitude of blond haired, tits-on-a-stick, aging plastic surgery Playboy bunny retirees who grace the streets of Hollywood and Beverly Hills in their Ugg/miniskirt combos and stripperesque clothes with their nipples barely covered covered, but he is repellent to a woman like myself.  I would be popping pills, shooting heroin in the bathroom and have alcoholic eyes myself if I spent more than a day with this man.  How one woman married him for 15+ years and another for 7 years, is beyond me.  Oh, right… the 15-year marriage landed the wife and mother-of-two a 12-million dollar settlement, and the 7-year marriage, well she walked out one day – loaded up the moving trucks and tossed the keys on the front porch – while he was boating on Lake Mead.  That divorce is pending.  I have to admire these women for their tenacity and endurance.  Were I a gold digger, I would have been married seven times over and would be commuting via private jet from my vineyard in Napa to the Van Nuys airport where my driver would await me in my Mercedes sedan (I would never be so nouveau riche gauche to own a Maybach) and take me to my 3-acre waterfront home on the cliffs of Point Dume, Malibu. 

Snob, yes, most definitely I am.  Stickler for manners and social graces, agreed.  But, gold digger?  I wish.