Strike Anywhere Matchstick Man

By now it's pretty much common knowledge that I rarely stick to anything for very long...relationships, jobs, art projects, quitting smoking, relationships, not smoking...but there is one thing that I have remained steadfastly devoted to (outside of being a mommy, of course) and that is - diligently travailing (heh) at the grueling field work - necessary to provide the juicy fodder...with which to spend umpteen resplendent hours...updating my Big Ugly Blog.dot.dot.dot.

Yes, for sure...there have been times over the last two years, when I've been too bogged down by some shitty job, or insanely busy with my kids, or simply lacking compelling material - to post as regularly as I consider optimum. But contrary to my intrinsically slacker-esque disposition, I've somehow managed to never completely drop the Big Ugly ball - and for that - I am implicitly grateful. (thank you, self!)

Along the way, I've not come remotely close to finding true love with any man (and that's cool) but what I have fallen in love with - is consistently putting myself in a multitude of milieus with myriad men - after which - giddily plunking my arse in the chair, right here at my trusty ole Mac. And then jotting down deets in my Big Ugly Blog, for you - my beloved, dear readers.

I've become hopelessly addicted to the entire agenda, which although time-consuming, is in no way a burden. I am motivated to continually put myself out there, thanks to my preoccupation with meeting new men, as well as staying au courant in my writing. I feel lucky in that I've rarely run into the same thing twice, and that - I believe - has helped to keep my Big Ugly stories at least somewhat original and fresh.

Sooooo...for me to get word from one devoted follower, that in his opinion - my recent obsession with having and writing about sex with young men, is wearing thin (someone sounds jea...lous...) and because of that - I was potentially at risk of boring the shit out of my audience...I took heed...for about a millisecond. At which point I saw his grievance for what it truly was...a flimsy new artifice and meager attempt to coax me into breaking my cub streak by finally saying "Yes" to his repeated nagging to get me to go out with his old ass. I mean seriously, what did he expect me to say, "Oh golly, ya' think? Maybe I should swear off bumpin' uglies with hot, tight young bucks and give crusty old coots like YOU a chance..."...GREAT IDEA!...

Now before I set about chewin' the poor guy a new one, let me first petition you, my other readers...by asking (purely out of my own curiosity) "Is my stuff really getting stale?"...I want you to tell me - and be honest, I can take it! I'll just say this - (and I am not at all trying to sway your opinion on the matter) sure, most of my recent posts have been recounting a fairly consistent run of an arguably puerile predilection - but I still can't believe that the stories within the entries are anywhere near verging on redundant...Could be that I am in total denial and that everyone who reads the Big Ugly is like, *snore*...and if so? I need to fix that. And even though that guy's opinion don't mean jack to me, yours undeniably does...so don't hesitate to tell me what you think...

And now...for that fucking roundhouse kick to the face!

Matchstick Man (named as such - for being frighteningly tall and thin, and for thinking that he could swindle his way to a date with me) initiated his offensive to meet me, absolutely ages ago...all right, so maybe it has only been a few months - but it feels like I've been fielding his persistence for an eternity.

He emailed and IM'd me relentlessly, before I fiiiinally gave in and responded. I had resisted wasting his time and mine, knowing straight away (just from looking at the tiny image posted on his profile and his age - 52) that I was not at all interested in talking to, much less dating the guy. But after caving to his constant badgering, I found that he was nice enough (or something) and I kept him around reasoning that, even though he was clearly not a good match for me, I might could maybe play matchmaker with him and my "old" friend Francis.

The next time that Frances stopped by my house, I opened OkCupid and pulled up Matchstick Man's profile, since I myself hadn't so much as peeked at his stats, not to mention the rest of his photos. Plus I'd mentioned a little about him to Frances and I was curious to see if she'd think he was cute. Cute? No, not cute...somehow "cute" doesn't seem a very fitting word to describe most 52 y/o men..."Distinctive"? Yeah, that's better.

Frances and I got to Matchstick Man's page and started immediately clicking around on his pics.......when in unison we both gasped, "OH!"s and "Oh No!"'s and "Huh UH..."'s and I apologized, "Ok, sorry......nevermind..."...I hurriedly closed out his page, and as we scampered away (slightly traumatized) she made me promise to never mention him again...

In the few pics. that we'd seen (not including his AV, which wasn't great but was not nearly as bad) Matchstick Man had effected this sort of wild-eyed, deranged persona...a serial killer craziness in his eyes and his smile. The one specific picture that got to us (*shudder*) was a close-up...of his face and bare shoulders. He was standing up against a wall, awash in unflattering flourescent lighting, having made the unfortunate decision to sport some ridiculously goofy fuckin' hat...any semblance of carefree silliness negated, by the terrifying grimace contorting his face. This could easily have passed for a police station mug shot...taken immediately following his arrest after being apprehended while running ripshod through suburbia...recklessly weaving in and out of children riding bikes...unabashedly flashing mothers chatting with neighbors in between yards...and wearing nothing more than a dime store sombrero.........Oh god! NOW I have the creeps again...I gotta focus on something pleaseant for a sec...like ice cream...or...Heather Brooke and the World's Best Blow Jo............K, now I'm good.

After begrudginly allowing Matchstick Man into my virtual world, he quickly assumed the likeness of a pesky old fly...forever buzzing around me no matter how many times I swatted at him to go the fuck away. He was virtually omnipresent...I couldn't login to OkC without him pestering me to chat. Every time my IM window popped open, I felt that flutter of anxious anticipation that precedes discovering which new or favorite boy has come to chat. But before any of those guys could get a word in edgewise, good ole Matchstick Man had already cut in. Each time, my initial disappointment quickly morphed into rabid irritation. "For godssakes man!" I'd think..."Give it a rest!"

I have no earthly clue why I continued to answer his emails and IM requests...could be I was simply being polite (or maybe felt sorry for him?) I dunno. I mean it's not even that he's that bad of a guy or anything, but I have signed myself up on all of these dating sites for the primary purpose of meeting men...that I WANT to date...and Matchstick Man was monopolizing my valuable time.

I'll never forget the night that he pulled the whole, "send me some pics." bit. Which I countered by saying, "You first!" And I have to say that, even having him ask me for pictures was just awkward and definitely not a natural fit. To me he just comes across as kind of rigid and straight, although he'd have me believe that he's this wild partying sex machine...which I ain't buyin' for a minute...sorry buddy.

When his photo appeared in my inbox, you wanna know the truth? I laughed. I really did! Like out loud. The image that he'd sent was so pathetically lame, that I wondered if he might be pulling a prank. I mean seriously dude...is that really all the better you can do? Lemme put it to you this way, "provocative" is not in this guy's vocabulary, and "sultry" is a language he don't speak.

I immediately replied and said, "Oh come ON, man! My public profile pics. are racier than that!" But the thing of it was, that the photo he'd sent - shirtless from his head down to almost his bellybutton...in a brightly lit bathroom...the shower head in the background, easily stealing his thunder...and again with the psychotic face - this time a way too eager-to-please expression that looked incredibly immature per his years...was all - way more than enough...I did not feel the need to see others (which ain't like me) and he certainly hadn't earned the privilege of seeing mine.

You gotta remember...I get tons of supremely hot photographs sent to my phone and my email...all the time. Like seriously hot! (well, to me at least) For example, one recent addition to my gallery of hard body/hard cock shots, boasts a wiener that was clearly an elephant's trunk in its last life...You know, like when an elephant has his trunk raised up real high and is about to spray water on its back? Fucking long and curly, I tell you...most impressive. And it's that type of photo that I feel should be rewarded with something hand-picked from outta my vault...heh, heh, heh...

In comparing Matchstick Man's pathetic submission to the ones that I happen to consider cherry, I became further convinced that we are simply very different people situated at opposite corners of the online dating game of chance, and the combination of him being older yet so green, only cemented my lack of interest in ever meeting him. In fact at this point, it wasn't even so much about his age anymore. Hell, I'd be completely down with letting a dominant, confident, experienced older man - teach me a thing or two...but Matchstick Man wasn't that guy...

Before too long, Matchstick Man found and friended me on Facebook, and at that point he kicked his efforts to woo me into a stalker-like overdrive...IM'ing me incessantly, commenting on nearly every word that I wrote on my wall, as well as practically every single photo that I posted...sheesh...

See, thing is - anytime I goof off online, I always keep several tabs open, so that I can hop back and forth to all of my favorite sites. And when things become quiet or slow on my dating sites, or Twitter or FB, I entertain myself by working on my blog. And seems lately, at that precise moment when I get "in the zone" and begin making real headway on the blog...fucking Matchstick Man pings me on Facebook. I'll be chugging along at a nice little clip, when his IM - like a goddamned penny on the track - derails my long train of thought...I grumble and fuss as I make my way over to see what it is that he could possibly want this time...and then hurry back to my blog before forgetting that brilliant series of words that I'd finally arranged perfectly in my mind...but Matchstick Man's interruption, leaves me with nothing more than a mangled and tangled-up wreck...He might allow enough time between messages, for me to get a sentence or maybe two writ - and then, "bloop", there he is - IM'ing me again...about his date the night before that ended at 1, and how the sex was good, but he was concerned cuz she'd puked up her dinner, which really ticked him off because he'd spent like $35 on sushi (are you for real?) Of course all I can think is, "Ewww? And just how was kissing her after that?...oh and btw...if the date was so great and you didn't leave her place til 1...then what in the world were you doing logged onto FB at 11:30...huh? Explain that!"

You know? I honestly don't consider myself to be a bad person. Naughty? Yes. But bad? I really hope not. But, I do have to admit that I am feeling a teensy bit badly about being such a meanie to poor Matchstick Man (especially after he confessed such a tender sweet thing to me just, last night, *ugh* Which...just so he knows...had zero effect on my staunch wish to keep things platonic!) Cuz for whatever reason, the guy has kind of endeared himself to me, mostly because his unerring determination to meet me does happen to be a bit flattering (if not completely fucking aggravating) He's become almost synonymous with an annoying little brother that you love...but who bugs you to pieces.

What I've been thinking is this...If after reading this new post, Matchstick Man does decide to keep me on his FB friends list (or even to talk to me at all - as pen-pals only, mind you) for me, that would really be fine. But he's gonna have to accept that while I'm writing my blog or chattin' it up with other guys...I'm apt to keep completely mum, or how 'bout - I IM him, "HUA!" That way he'll know that I know that he's there, but now's not a good time...cuz I'm BUSY!!!

When you think about it tough - Matchstick Man got exactly what he had coming to him. His "constructive criticism" arrived at the exact moment that I was preparing to go full steam ahead into what would have ended up to - be an entirely different blog post. I give him every bit of the credit for providing the material with which to circumvent my original story. And I hope that he's happy, now that I took his valuable advice and wrote this entire piece with nary a whisper about any one cub...

Now, if you guys will kindly excuse me - there's a young Marine out there - who I might just need to..."call in"...