congratulations, this is your 500th post.

wt 4 u say no? respect. single is fine if you got sm respect.

... but you no longer needed the guys, since you had all the love by then that you needed and wanted.

Stupid guys... now they have to look elsewhere. Serves them right.

(Hee, hee! I am named individually, like pigs in the old testament!! All other forbidden food stuffs are circumdescribed only.)

A, B, C, and D.

Of course!! (Slaps forehead.) How was I able to stay so stupid for so long.

As a hypothetical idea, I am all the way behind the OP's suggestion. Very good idea, or almost a very good idea.

I need to add one increcibly important feature. I'd leave everyone blind, as proposed, but I would be exempt.

That way I could laugh on demand. I could just look out the window and see all you goons bump into walls, each other, and horses and dogs.

And when I felt like some company to entertain me, I would go out, pick a good un easily, bring her home and have her have her way with me. Any style she likes.

Because I like stylish women...

Translation:

if you are okay to get her stoned to death by the angry villagers, each of whom is her cousin in one way or another, then why not. If you want her to survive at least 'till the second date, then don't.

As an idea, I support it and am all the way behind it by hypothetical considerations.

I... I... you are saying something very, very important here, 42.

Maybe if I got a woman drunk, I wouldn't need to go through the next upcoming 13 years also celibately.

It's just drinking is not in my personal culture. At least two-thirds of my very past gfs did not drink, and I never offer drinks, because I don't. Maybe that's it. My 'mehtod' lacked a certain very important ingredient.

Thanks for opening my eyes, 42. This is not a joke at all, I may have written it to sound funny, but I never thought of it that way.

Fu... shi... oh, drat.

Call me a sick and deviant idiot, but if I were offered sex on the first date, I would refuse it. It happened, too. Socially I met a dr., she introduced me to two of her girlfriends, one wanted to smoke up and have sex right away, she drove a ferrari that took off like a rocket, and I had to say no, this was too fast for me. The askence ferrari driver was a tall, stylish red-head, slim, but a bit aging. It's not those that turned me off; but the smoking of drugs, and the feeling that I am so far removed from her class and league, that it would take a seven-member rescue team WEEKS to find me and bring me home to my rented basement room.

But on other first dates, if I sometimes asked for sex right away, and a small, almost zero number of times the woman would say yes, then I was willing, too.

I don't count those of these, where the woman and I had known each other socially, or through school, friends, etc., where we had got to know each other well before the date. The examples above only apply to ones when I was with total or nearly total strangers.

More helpful would be to tell us, Sou, that if a fat, short, old, man somehow climbed on a skipole machine without getting a heart attack, would he be approached by babes with seductive offers? THIS is what guys like me don't know but would like to find out. Be a sport, do tell please.

"The guys always seem willing."

You go to a stamp collecting club, to an astronaut training camp, to a manhole cover manufacturing factory, to a computer store, to a funeral parlor... the men, at these places, without any exception, are always willing.

You might as well say as a news item, "newly immigrated men do not understand the meaning of the world "no"".

It might mean to pursue love and thow yourself into it with reckless abandon.

Is that what you meant, o, OP?

No, it works. Perfectly. You just have to type it in the URL address window carefully. One character off and you're screwed.

... and got a ticket for DUI on your way back to the store?

You look exceedingly pretty, and that's the bottom line for a successful relationship.

You could say more in the write-up. There are a lot of guys who read the scripts and respond to the written word, while still prompted only by a woman's picture alone. But they need a bone be thrown at them, to get that "meaningful" initial letter going.

The majority of guys who write "hot!" "Hi, hottie!" "Umm?" and the like, and the contents of whose entire note is nothing more, don't need long texts. So maybe my advice is no good, if you want to read through truckloads of mail of which each says, "U r htt" and nothing else.

Another point is your usersname. I know you can't change it now, but what exactly does de DR do dere? Are you a doctor, or a Ph.D.? or a chiropractic, naturopath, psychopath (a homeopathic psychologist) dervish, or shaman? A DR alone without an explanation makes you look hotttt, but if you are not a doctor, then the cooldown by the guys will be too quick. They fall too deep from too high a ledge if the cute babe appears to be a DR but is actually not. And that hurts.

That's all.

What are you going to lie about? You are gorgeous, young, healthy. Smart. What more could you possibly add that is a non-truth (or true) and makes guys feel more attracted to you?

I don't think you need to lie, because simply there is nothing about yourself that woudl keep the "good guys" away.(*)

What you must do is put yourself out where you are visible, and seem available. Granted, there are no places like that left in today's world, like the old single's dances used to be or group discussions. There are only two places left, indeed, where anyone has more than a snowball's chance of meeting people: in the room where you are kept for potential selection to jury duty, my uncles girlfriend got five marriage offers in three weeks. Plus the bank kept paying her salary. The other place is church, where some people would never want to be caught dead, yours truly is one. And there is a third place, which nobody admits to using, because it has some stigma attached: large family reunions. There is somebody for everybody, a selection that would satisfy any and all different tastes. And testes.

(*) Some people a married woman is not what good guys want. Well, depending on the level of commitment wished for, you'd be surprized about what "good guys" are capable of doing.

Erm. I also stay away from threads of those who are about to pass on. This is for the same reason that I appear callous. I can't be truly and sincerely be sorry about anyone's death. Nothing , even when my psychiatrist died, or my best friend Paul committed suicide, I was in a state like George Constanza from Seinfeld, at the time when his bride died. George took the news, then after a very little while looked at his other friends, and said, "want to go for a coffee?"

I am very much that way. I can't show grief or sorrow, and I can't show comeraderie for the dying. Not because I don't want to; I simply can't. And this is not one emotion that one wants to fake. It is one emotion that one must respect to not attempt to fake and pretend to have.

I was around basically two dying people, and this is what I found helped them ease the passage.

One was an old dad of a friend of a friend. His daughter hired me to take him on outings, out of the old folks home, for a three-hour stretch each week. We were a good match. He was an old Jew, I was a middle-aged Jew. He went through the holocaust, as a war slave, not in the camps. He told me a lot of things, and one amazed me, that he never was beaten or disciplined as a slave. It goes to show that when you are likeable, you are liked even in hell.

So. This guy and I struck up quite a good friendship. He thrived. I took him out for three years. I got paid, and he was happy, so was I.

Eventually all of a sudden he became morose, withdrawn. His daughter released me from this service. Two or three months later he died.

What he liked was, like others said, to talk about his past, and oftentimes, not every day, to resolve old issues. I advised him to make peace with an old friend who had been his business partner for a while, and cheated him out of money, and was dirty with him. My friend's father eventually gave in, and had a mild satisfaction out of forgiving this guy. You see, all sinners get close to us by being our friends first. It is hard to hate a friend, just as much as to be friendly with an enemy. When a friend betrays us, we have to do either the one, or the other, and can't do both, and will be forever unhappy about this sort of friend. The old man was satisfied, because he harboured ill will and anger for his old business partner for so long, that it was time to give the anger and resentment a break, and be happy about the friend he once had had and had lost. It is simply the change of pace of emotions about an important man in his life. Another reason is that positive feelings bounce around and help to creating (not cause to be created) more positive feelings.

So he became morose, died, in a few months. Sorry to say, but I don't think there was much that sustained him in his very last days. Maybe seeing his family, his offspring. Maybe. But facing death is a depressing, and terribly heavily oppressing feeling that can't be alleviated with false jokes and marry smiles. Let him be. Be there when he wants you, but don't expect to be able to cheer him up. In fact, excessive attempts at cheer may make him get angry. Eventually he will go into a complete solitudinous coocoon. Nothing you can do about it. Not saying this to depress you, but to prevent you from feeling guilty should you try and fail.

The other close death was my aunt's. She was nervous; her nerves alwasy got her angry and slash and anger around people who were dependent on her. I learned this from her, big time.

Anyhow, she was getting worse and worse; hard to take, coz you needed to build your ego shield to be stronger and stronger, and hard to take care of. She became incapacitated in her last few months, you had to change diapers on her.

She was also in great physical pain. Eventually my uncle took her down to the hospital where they immediately put her on morphine. She then slept for the rest of her life, only to come up to the surface occasionally. She died peacefully, coz it was forced on her. She lost her bodily functionalites, I don't know how to say this in English. She lost half her body weight, her own life-supporting biological systems went quickly one after another for the last week or two weeks of her life, in an accelerated rate.

i can talk about this coldly and not moved or impassioned, because I have this disability, which makes me uanble to grieve. My mom died when I was thirteen, I was near death emotionally, and some of my emotional systems just stayed dead, like death of any person does not affect me.

So... the lesson is, let them die, don't force the issue, don't get caught up in guilt, which you can only do if you're emotionally dead like I am. Do your best, play fair, and respect the competition, the opposing team (the angel of death and her allies: the scary and terrifying behaviour of the dying.)

Whatever your filosphophy, ie. is there an afterlife or not, use it to your advantage.

The death of a loved one is never actually the problem of the dying. It is the problem of the survivors, once the dearly departed has departed. (See the example of me and my Mom.) To wit, and to contrapose, my aunt used to say, "The only person who won't survive a very much loved one's death is the dead person himself." She was witty, that old wench. This is a class act quote, and she made it up herself.

My daddy had a funny one too, when he died. He had a massive heart attack, he was writhing in pain, my stepmom called the ambulance, they came, and as they put Dad on the stretcher, he said to my nearly hysterical step mom, reassuringly, "Erzsike, dear, don't fret; they are taking me to St. John's Hospital, and there they have the BEST coroners."

My psychiatrist at the time said, of this, that people joke and can be funny when near death, but it's only a sign of their extreme desparation and fear. He said that there were drums and horns playing at every public execution, becuase the executantes were screaming expletives at the rulers who ordered them to die, and were there to witness it. Everyone has to deal with the extreme fear and loathsome dispair when they are dying, and they do it many ways. Joking, screaming, praying, crying, whatever it takes. And this is to chase the demon of fear away; sometimes they are also in extreme physical pain.

Again, please forgive me, and everybody here I beg you to forgive me, but talking about the dying, death, and such things don't affect me at all emotionally, either way. I just look at it as if I watched a stone fall when I drop it, or birds circling in the sky, or waves on the shore. Does not do anything to me, and please don't condemn me for it. I paid for it, dearly, already, when Mom passed away.

I prefer to leave the can on the table, even if it's gone empty as I munch.