(This is a satirical dating profile from my book, Fake Personal Ads (Or Real Personal Ads for Fake People).)
MEN SEEKING WOMEN
Sorry, but I am interested in dating a woman, a human woman, not a woman AND her canine in some kind of bestial threesome. I am not interested in walking your dog, playing catch with your dog, or talking to your dog. I have no desire to carry around a plastic bag filled with the intestinal contents of your dog. I will not coo that your dog is cute, or cuddly or adorable, when in fact your dog is a dog. I want to look at a picture of you, not one of you with your dog, or, worse, just a photo of your freakin dog. I will not laugh when your dog bites me on the leg, nor will I be amused when your dog licks me with its poop breath.
I will not be a good sport whenever things are getting hot and heavy – and then, just as the both of us are on the verge of erotic bliss, the goddamn dog starts barking in the hallway and scratching the door – whereupon you tell me to hold that thought as you get up, let in the dog, who, of course, jumps on the bed, which you think is so cute — and by then I have lost so much momentum as to require a hot tub date with five Playboy Bunnies to reboot the mechanism.
I will consider you a pretentious crazy woman if you have named your dog “Hawthorne” or “Charles de Gaulle” or however you say “poop breath” in French or just plain “Rick.” I refuse to fill a conversational vacuum by the two of us staring at your stupid dog while talking about your stupid dog, even if your dog suddenly solves Fermat’s Last Theorem. I will not listen to even one word of your account of how you took “Rick” to the vet to get a colonoscopy; nor will I absorb one sentence about how you found the dog in a shelter and how it was instant love from the moment you two mammals laid eyes upon one another across a room of caged raccoons. I deeply apologize, really.
Come to think of it, you and your stupid dog can go straight to hell.
(Check out my writer website: http://www.authorjamesfjohnson.com)