How Google Search Results Sum Up the Difference Between Men and Women

They say men are from Mars and women are from Venus but by they, I mean some pseudo-therapist who made a gajillion dollars in the 90’s by calling himself a relationship counselor and writing a book.

As annoying as the book sounds, it’s true that men and women have their differences. When it comes to things like socializing, money, and football, I sometimes feel like guys are speaking a foreign language. What do you mean you might make fantasy playoffs? What sport are you even talking about? And how does a playoff exist if the whole thing is made up. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE CLUE ME IN.

Anyway, that got me thinking about all the ways guys and girls are different and one thing I kept landing on was online search behavior. When I google, I look at shelter puppies and pinterest and celebrity gossip. What do guys search for? Porn? They probably have all their favorite sites bookmarked by now though, right? Well, here’s how I imagine it might look for the average Jack and Jill.

Ladies: 

• Calories in a Starbucks pumpkin spice latte 
• Pumpkin muffin recipe 
• Calories in pumpkin muffins 
• What to do with leftover canned pumpkin 
• Harry Winston engagement rings 
• Google maps 
• UTI symptoms 
• Ryan Gosling shirtless 

I’d say this list pretty accurately reflects my search queries on a random Tuesday in November. Now for the dudes.

Gentlemen: 

• Two blonde sluts 
• Amateur 
• Spankwire 
• Pornhub 
• Morton’s menu 
• Directions to Morton’s 
• How to unclog a toilet when the plunger won’t work 
• Can I have sex with my girlfriend when she has a UTI? 
• Spankwire 
• Pornhub 
• Amateur 
• Two curvy sluts 

If anyone finds themselves offended by this list and my sweeping generalizations, please feel free to contribute your search results in the comments section below.

5 (More) Dating Deal Breakers

Odor
It’s not that I don’t want you to smell bad – which is obviously step one – I also don’t want you to try too hard to smell good. None of that asthma-inducing cologne, please. I can handle a nicely-scented deodorant, but mostly I just want you to smell clean. Like laundry and human skin. Is that too much to ask?

Height
I’m short, so this is a completely unjustified deal breaker for me to have, but I just can’t deal with small guys. Look, I’m sorry. I wish I weren’t this way. It would be a lot easier for me to find my eternal soul mate if I could expand my love network to include those 5 foot 9’ers out there, but ya know what? It’s just not gonna happen.

Non-complimentary
I’m sure you think as a smart, employed, “together” lady, I don’t need to be buttered up with over-the-top praise… but I want it. Tell me I’m beautiful, tell me I’m effortlessly sexy, tell me I look hot in the skin-tight dress I put on with the intention of looking awesome for you, and see where it gets you. Most likely you’ll be taking off said dress.

Too nice
I want a partner-in-crime not a honey bear. I’m generally a nice enough person, but I can be a bitch when someone or something pisses me off. If you’re constantly making me feel bad about my occasional meanness, I don’t want to be around you. So, grow a pair and add some snark to the conversation. If I mention that so-and-so gained 10 lbs, your response had better be “looks more like 20”. Zing!

Wandering eyes
Yes, she has boobs. So do I. Stop mentally undressing every female in your line of sight. If you’re the kind of guy who is constantly and non-subtly checking out every tit that presents itself, I’m going to turn and run the other way - taking my fantastic rack with me. Even if you don’t act on those lustful looks, I don’t want to feel like I’m constantly competing with Girl X who’s shaped like a Barbie doll. Appreciate what you’ve got – me – or don’t be with me at all.

Coming to Terms with the Ex Files

He was yours first, I suppose.

And it doesn't matter whether you dated for 10 days or 10 years because the fact of the matter is, you beat me to it. You marked your territory before I even knew there was land to be found.

Though I envy you your history and your inextricably linked lives,  I don't envy you because you lost him. You turned your back. You let what you had wilt and decay into nothing. Well, not nothing. I found some scraps, I picked up the pieces. I spotted the stomped on seedling of a heart and nurtured it and cared for it and now it's mine. And dammit, I earned it. You don't deserve him if you couldn't figure out how to keep him yours.

He kisses me like his lips were made for mine, so I can't imagine how yours compare. I want to ask him whose lips win, but I don't, because even if he chooses me, I'd rather not turn his attention back to you for even a second.

As we get older, everyone's past becomes greater. I wish you weren't so much of his.

The 6 Types of Guys You Date In Between the Good Ones

There were a few men who entered my life briefly since the demise of my last Big Relationship. Then, I found You.

I’ve dubbed these fellows: "The In-Betweeners”.

1. Ugly boy – Ugly boy happens right after a big break up. He’s just there. He’s available and persistent and desperate for vagina. Ugly boy has the intriguing effect of making you feel ugly too. Rather than feeling more attractive in comparison to him, he has the unique ability of pulling you down to his level. Not a keeper.

2. Racist boy – Racist boy is the quintessential southern republican. Of course, there’s no way of knowing such insanity lurks behind those baby blues when he buys you a drink Saturday night, but when he makes a disparaging comment about your heritage between sips of $1 Bud Light the following Thursday, it’s clear it’s time to leave.

3. Pretty boy – Pretty boy is pretty and not much else. End of story.

4. Boring boy – Boring boy (also known as “perfect on paper” boy) is cute and successful and polite and nice enough, but utterly, mind-numbingly dull. He’s the reason you got sloshed on a Tuesday. Apparently, the secret to withstanding more than 20 minutes of Boring boy is Sangria. Who knew?

5. Jobless boy – Jobless boy is always the life of the party. He’s available to do WHATever whenever because he’s unemployed and up for anything! His enthusiasm is contagious and makes you want to quit your job and travel the world. But then the money runs out. He’s stuck at home and you’re stuck with him.

6. Apathetic Jewish boy – Apathetic Jewish boy is intelligent, interesting, and handsome. He’s passionate about his government job and comes off earnest and caring to friends and family. He’s husband material. Until you learn he likes to numb himself with Valium and ejaculate on your tits.

What Women Really Want from Men

So... what do you all think about this? Offensive? Funny? Spot-on?

Just saw it on a dating site and it cracked me up. I love the first part about women 21-25 wanting a guy who's the "Total Package". What? Like, women who hit 26 suddenly stop having standards and will settle for anything?

I guess it really comes down to priorities. When you're 22 and have no money, you won't hold it against a guy if he's dirt poor too. But, if you're 30 and have your shit together, you expect the same from a boyfriend.

Anyway, check out this infographic and let me know what you think in the comments!


Sugardaddie.com – A Millionaire Dating Site

You're So Vain, You Probably Think This Blog is About You (Ha!)

When it rains, it pours.

It’s odd how you can feel like such a cookie cutter cliché of a lonely, single girl one day and then suddenly it’s like you’re fighting guys off left and right, scheduling back-to-back date nights, and surreptitiously replying to texts from potential love interests under the table mid-way through Sunday night dinner with your parents.

All of a sudden, you’re giving off some sexed-up, “you can’t have me” vibe and people sense you’re a hot commodity. While just a day earlier you would’ve pictured yourself grocery shopping and folding laundry on Sunday afternoon, instead you find yourself happily ignoring Nicholas Cage movies while a guy plants kisses on the nape of your neck.

…And then the Texts from Boyfriends Past start pouring in.

Almost as if they have some kind of radar that notifies them when they are slowly being forgotten about; the sexts, the awkward comments, the four consecutive ichat bubbles about unimportant nothingness. These were the texts I desperately needed three days ago when I wanted some reminder that I was missed – that I mattered. But my phone was obnoxiously silent. Until now, of course. Until I couldn’t care less.

I’ve never thought of myself as the type who needed “closure”.  I always liked the idea of being friends with an ex. But now, I’m doubtful. Why hold on to someone who didn’t treat you the way you deserved? Even if the split itself was amicable enough it doesn’t mean you need the toxic emotional angst that can accompany prolonged contact with an old flame.

Just let me be happy.

Texting with Boys

I feel validated. And yes, it’s because of a man. Sorry feminists.

He’s a stranger in theory. A stranger who I locked lips with because we felt like it. Because why not? He reminded me of that blonde guy from Sweet Home Alabama minus the southern accent. Or maybe he had one? I don’t remember – we didn’t talk much. And that was that.

But then what? A few errant texts. A lot of nothingness thumbed between phones. I got antsy. I wanted more. And didn’t want to be forgotten or ignored. So I made my move.

Despite carefully crafting my text to sound casual and cool, I still regretted it the instant I pressed send. I watched the little blue thought bubble appear in our chat, feeling anxious and stupid and unsure of myself. I felt rejected before I was even rejected because I seemed crazy. He’d sent all oneliners and I respond with a six line chunk of text (that's practically a novel in iphone world!) asking him out on a date?!? Who does that? Crazy girls. Crazy girls do that.

But then. Then! That glorious ellipsis. Oh thank you iphone for letting me know instantly that this stranger slash new friend has received my message and chosen to respond. It’s so painfully pathetic of me to watch and wait and watch and wait but still. It came! The "yes". The "of course". The "you’re-silly-I-was-going-to-ask-you-but-you-beat-me-to-it" text. All the best words combined together in the best sentence reaffirming my desirability. I was good enough to kiss, but this, this is better. This says I’m good enough to have a conversation with. I’m good enough to go out with. I'm worth getting to know beyond the taste of my strawberry chapstick.

I know, I know. I shouldn’t need some silly boy to remind me of my worth, but sometimes, it's just that simple.

Too Much Time On My Hands

Since he left, I’ve devoured eleven books. I’m insatiable, looking everywhere for ways to satisfy my mind, occupy my time.

I’ve perfected the art of the grilled cheese sandwich. This might not sound very impressive, but I assure you, it’s a feat nonetheless. I’ve experimented with four types of bread, six kinds of cheese, varying butter/margarine combos, and three different pans in my kitchen. I’ve also figured out the perfect mustard to honey ratio to whip up a great little dipping sauce. This is my comfort food, warm gooey goodness enveloped in buttery, flakey crust.

When I’m lonely or sad or just a little blue, I’ve found that reverting to childhood comforts is the best way to perk up. When I was a kid, there was nothing a good book couldn’t cure. Lose yourself in someone else’s world for an hour or two and you’ll forget your own problems in no time. It’s a little harder now, but at least reading is a constructive time waster. At least I’m not drinking my sorrows away.

I feel so much pressure to fill my free time with a hundred thousand activities like the rest of the people in this city. Trivia! Spin class! Happy hour! Yoga! It’s like I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts for a single second, so I plan my days down to the last minute.

But when life is life and plans get cancelled, I come unmoored. I’m distraction-less. My roommate walks in to find me weeping over a sandwich in the kitchen.

What Would Your Mother Have to Say About This?

I like you. You’re an asshole. I’d like to have a chat with your mother.

I swear I’ve had these consecutive thoughts more times than I can count. What is WRONG with men in their twenties!?

It seems like every time someone comes along who is mildly entertaining, not brain dead, and knows how to take a shower, they feel entitled to behave like inconsiderate, egomaniacal jerks. I’m pretty sure this is a symptom of helicopter parents and/or the facebook “like” button. I mean, if a guy updates his status to something involving a burrito and gets ten likes and somewhere between one and three supportive comments, he’s obviously going to have a false sense of self.

So, allow me to enlighten you. YOU ARE NOT THAT GREAT.

A few loves ago, a guy ended things between us over the phone with this line: “I thought hanging out with you would be better than nothing but uhh…” Now, imagine my dumbfounded reaction. (Yes, he’s not-so-subtly informing me that time spent in my presence has become worse than nothing).

I can’t take it anymore.

What would his MOTHER have to say about this??

I am a nice, smart, thoughtful girl with a job. I live in a gorgeous apartment that I can actually afford in a fun neighborhood and I live with a roommate who is normal and non-creepy. I know these aren’t the only dating-qualifiers out there but, come on, I should be a catch.

So why do males feel like they can treat me like I’m less of a person than they are? Too many times now, I’ve found myself thinking, “If he were my son, I’d be mortified,” or “I’d send my kid to a therapist if he ever spoke to a girl this way,” or “my son would never do something like that.” I know that deep down these are nice boys from good families who don’t mean to be mean but then… they are.

A word of advice to guys out there. Think twice before you say something hurtful to a lady. Imagine a future generation of men saying the same thing to your precious, beautiful perfect daughter… if the sentence you’re about to utter would make future-you want to punch present-you in the face, there’s your clue to hit mute.