Letter from potential dater, IntrovertNancy104, to the F'n Rad Dating Site:
Dear F'n Rad Dating Site:
Hi.
IntrovertNancy104
-- C.A. MacConnell
Tuesday, July 18, 2023
IntrovertNancy104
Monday, July 17, 2023
Introducing our C.E.O.
Hello daters on the scene! We may be a little late in the game in formally introducing our amazing C.E.O. here at the F'n Rad Dating Site, but we at the F'n Rad Dating Site just wanted to take a moment to give a shout out to our number one potential dater who hasn't dated for eight years straight...ten, really, minus the two-year snafu, so she has plenty of time to sift through the billions of dating applications we have received. She is ready and waiting for your profiles, so keep sending, daters! Here she is:
She wants you all to know that she likes My Little Pony, thunderstorms, and long walks in the park.
Sincerely,
The F'n Rad Dating Site
Saturday, July 15, 2023
Dating Event Suggestions
Now, we at the F’n Rad Dating Site are absolutely gung-ho, and we believe in true love and magic! But when it comes to ideas for dating events, we are also grounded in our approach. Yes, we realize that there are those times when a potential dater needs to quickly exit a dating situation that just doesn’t seem to be the correct fit. We like to call it this: “scurry the fuck out of there.” Of course, any potential dater could just up and disappear, but that’s no fun. Here are some suggestions on how to scurry the fuck out of there. Read and learn…
Dating Ideas When it Doesn’t Fit: How to Scurry the Fuck Out of There
1. Go white water rafting, level 4, with no paddle, no guide, and no boat. (Our CEO actually participated in this dating event, and it worked like a charm. Her potential date disappeared for good, without a trace and with no legal consequences).
2. Fruit picking in Central Park at 4 a.m.
3. Candlelight dinner with a side order of gasoline.
4. Go for a bike ride through a thorn bush!
5. Bowling. The holes. Super Glue.
6. Take a ride on The Rotor at any local festival. The centripetal force USUALLY holds most daters against the wall but then again, some sweaty, bony, tattooed dude named Frank puts them together five minutes before the festival begins, so there’s always a chance for a mistake.
7. Go to a local park and bring some sidewalk chalk! You and your dater can take turns making funny pictures. Then, at a key emotional moment, over and over, only write this: “HELP ME!” and your dater’s sure to disappear. Also works with fingerpainting and body paint.
8. Feed the ducks together. Munch on stale bread and tell your date the ducks feel like your family of origin.
9. Suggest board games. Pull out Hungry Hungry Hippo. Cry and say it’s too “challenging.”
10. Instead of an artsy play, suggest watching Teletubbies.
11. Make dinner together and pull out your extensive knife collection, as well as your swords.
12. Head to the cemetery and tell your date you wish you knew what it was like to be buried alive.
13. Suggest extreme sports and/or curling.
14. Hm, breakfast. Point at your cat.
15. Museums! Suggest the Dog Collar Museum in England.
16. A serene hike up Mt. Everest!
17. Go caving when the sky looks stormy…laugh and wear a scuba outfit.
18. Go hunting or fishing together. Make sure to share about that time you took out an albino tiger with a machete, one swipe to the throat.
19. The zoo! Say it reminds you of how you spent last year.
20. Ice skating. Bring a blow torch and ask your date if they know anyone named Tonya or Nancy.
21. Look at the stars and remark about how you want to travel to Jupiter so bad like everyone’s been doing lately.
22. Arts and crafts! Suggest taxidermy.
23. A picnic. Bring a basket full of elephant shit.
24. Ropes course with slightly intact, tattered ropes.
25. Author reading, poetry reading. During the middle of it, shout, “You liar!”
26. Take a fancy car on a test drive. And don’t return it.
27. Give them a massage using WD40.
28. Putt Putt. Bring your monogrammed hockey stick and/or baseball bat. Just for kicks, put a little dried blood on the end.
29. Dancing. Remind them that you once were electrocuted and have little bowel control upon movement.
30. Karaoke and bust out “Bobby McGee.” No one wants to hear that, even if you’re Janis.
31. Build a blanket fort with a cardboard box and watch movies in your PJs, but say you’d rather be wearing the cardboard box.
32. Go on a ghost tour. Be the ghost.
33. Take a gentle exercise class together, such as a one-mile, 200lb sled push.
34. Plan a scavenger hunt in Celaya, Mexico.
Good luck, daters on the prowl! Until next time...sincerely, the F'n Rad Dating Site.
-- C.A. MacConnell
Dating Ideas When it Doesn’t Fit: How to Scurry the Fuck Out of There
1. Go white water rafting, level 4, with no paddle, no guide, and no boat. (Our CEO actually participated in this dating event, and it worked like a charm. Her potential date disappeared for good, without a trace and with no legal consequences).
2. Fruit picking in Central Park at 4 a.m.
3. Candlelight dinner with a side order of gasoline.
4. Go for a bike ride through a thorn bush!
5. Bowling. The holes. Super Glue.
6. Take a ride on The Rotor at any local festival. The centripetal force USUALLY holds most daters against the wall but then again, some sweaty, bony, tattooed dude named Frank puts them together five minutes before the festival begins, so there’s always a chance for a mistake.
7. Go to a local park and bring some sidewalk chalk! You and your dater can take turns making funny pictures. Then, at a key emotional moment, over and over, only write this: “HELP ME!” and your dater’s sure to disappear. Also works with fingerpainting and body paint.
8. Feed the ducks together. Munch on stale bread and tell your date the ducks feel like your family of origin.
9. Suggest board games. Pull out Hungry Hungry Hippo. Cry and say it’s too “challenging.”
10. Instead of an artsy play, suggest watching Teletubbies.
11. Make dinner together and pull out your extensive knife collection, as well as your swords.
12. Head to the cemetery and tell your date you wish you knew what it was like to be buried alive.
13. Suggest extreme sports and/or curling.
14. Hm, breakfast. Point at your cat.
15. Museums! Suggest the Dog Collar Museum in England.
16. A serene hike up Mt. Everest!
17. Go caving when the sky looks stormy…laugh and wear a scuba outfit.
18. Go hunting or fishing together. Make sure to share about that time you took out an albino tiger with a machete, one swipe to the throat.
19. The zoo! Say it reminds you of how you spent last year.
20. Ice skating. Bring a blow torch and ask your date if they know anyone named Tonya or Nancy.
21. Look at the stars and remark about how you want to travel to Jupiter so bad like everyone’s been doing lately.
22. Arts and crafts! Suggest taxidermy.
23. A picnic. Bring a basket full of elephant shit.
24. Ropes course with slightly intact, tattered ropes.
25. Author reading, poetry reading. During the middle of it, shout, “You liar!”
26. Take a fancy car on a test drive. And don’t return it.
27. Give them a massage using WD40.
28. Putt Putt. Bring your monogrammed hockey stick and/or baseball bat. Just for kicks, put a little dried blood on the end.
29. Dancing. Remind them that you once were electrocuted and have little bowel control upon movement.
30. Karaoke and bust out “Bobby McGee.” No one wants to hear that, even if you’re Janis.
31. Build a blanket fort with a cardboard box and watch movies in your PJs, but say you’d rather be wearing the cardboard box.
32. Go on a ghost tour. Be the ghost.
33. Take a gentle exercise class together, such as a one-mile, 200lb sled push.
34. Plan a scavenger hunt in Celaya, Mexico.
Good luck, daters on the prowl! Until next time...sincerely, the F'n Rad Dating Site.
-- C.A. MacConnell
Saturday, July 8, 2023
JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw
Letter from potential dater, JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw, to the F'n Rad Dating Site:
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
Hold on, let me grab my megaphone: LADIEEESSS AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO MY SHOW, DATERS!
Occupation: Stuffed Animal Claw Machine maintenance man, although some in my close troupe call me the “Prop Man.” Alas, I am an independent contractor, but I hold down full-time hours, and on the side, I also work for cherry pie.
Gender: Male
Age: 55
Hair: purple/black, thick as cotton candy
Attire: the finest, shiniest wardrobe, always, such as: a bright tailcoat (red with gold trim), a waistcoat, a black top hat, and a bow tie.
Here’s my best pitch: natives, towners, orphans, step right up! Settle down into any grocery store side show or movie theatre game room, aka, my front yard. In advance, if you’re one of the lucky few, perhaps I’ll even give you a pass to have your hand at The Claw! Gather ‘round and try and beat me at the game! Try and try again. It’s utterly impossible. No matter your take, I have the X on the machine. No novelties will ever reach your hands. You’ll stay deep in the blues, buried in the nosebleed section. Daters, your search ends at The Claw, my big house.
Interested in: not picky, folks! I like all onlookers, those with or without quarters and also, all passing fans with crumpled ace notes, fins, or sawbucks. Bring a spoiled buck, and the machine will spit it out every time! Daily, for hours, I swallow down some dukeys while watching the crowds attempt to shove a dollar in The Claw dollar feeder again and again and again. Also, watching trapeze, sideshows, Spanish web, handling pickled punk, participating in the iron jaw, and discovering human oddities are all activities that make me hard. Overall, I have a preference for jugglers, bally broads, and bally girls, and I admit…indeed…I have spent some time with the boys in clown alley.
Interests: I am an expert calliope musician. In the past, I’ve also worked as a candy butcher, a lion tamer, and I’ve graced the back lot of numerous concession stands.
Most people jumping around these parts know this undeniable fact: because of my machine maintenance skills, anyone may get on The Claw bandwagon, but all attempts will soon be proved hopeless! That’s right, when JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw is in the ring, no one wins at The Stuffed Animal Claw Machine! Every day, with my secret, hidden grocery store cameras, behind my teaser curtain, in the back yard, which is off limits, where I have my dressing rooms, stock tents, stuffed animal cages and dens, I watch the screaming kids and mommies and daddies throw hundreds of quarters away, all the while listening to a chorus of passersby who remark the following: "Oh my god, I've never seen anyone win on that thing!" At this key point in the show, I laugh, nod, and watch attempt after attempt and failure after failure. Red lights all the way.
I love my life!
Go ahead, kick the machine.
Shake it.
Punch it.
Make a little wish.
Do a little dance.
Do it all again.
No matter what, it won’t work, friends. The Claw is mine.
Now, I will admit this: there is one, angular move…I repeat…one…secret way to win, but only I know the truth, although a certain audience member once came close. One wild cat, a forty-something woman wearing cartoon pajamas, entered the grocery near sunset, and she thought that she was beginning to catch on to my mastermind and yes indeed, she was able to grab one bull elephant’s ear, and she almost…I repeat…almost…dropped the creature in the hole. Every day, right on time, she came and made quite a speck, but I soon grew tired of her flea bag antics and so, I was forced to do this: I refilled the machine and stuffed the animals down in there so tight, even the smallest monkey had to struggle to breathe. After my slick maneuver, even when using distraction tactics, force, sheer talent, and dexterity, Pajama Woman couldn’t win.
Well, would you believe this: Sponge Bob Princess came back!
So, the next time I refilled the machine, I scattered the animals to the sides. I like to call it this: "curbing them," which means that there was no way The Claw could even reach a bear’s ear. I admit that the curbing maneuver was somewhat cruel.
Would you believe this: the Freak Show Woman still returned for more torture! Then, listen close, folks: she hunkered down. She shook the entire machine. She nearly broke the center pole. She even straddled the corner and humped the glass, attempting to make one of the tigers fall into a possible “grabbing location.”
I admit, it almost turned me on, but this is a Sunday school show. Anyway, she was oh…so…close.
So then, I had to pull out The Stuffed Animal Claw Machine emergency protocol. That’s right, I, JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw, resorted to the lowest of the low. I stooped to a horrifying level that no one in The Claw Family has ever dared duplicate! I did this:
That’s right! I hooked the claw on its own cord, so no matter what maneuvers Onesie Woman tried -- shaking the machine, screaming at the joystick, punching the glass, whatever -- the claw couldn't move.
Bow down, Slipper Queen. You will fold every time. Time for your show to close. Shuffle home and find another Claw and dig your eyeballs out. The Claw Machine is mine. Take your unicorn slippers and go home emptyhanded like the rest.
By the way, when I’m done watching my roomful of hidden cameras, if you’re not busy later, we should make a show date under the stars, no tent. I like thunderstorms and long walks in the park. I’ll take you to the cook house. Or, when the flag’s up, maybe we could grab a dog or some floss at a grease joint. No worries, I’ll dig into the garbage and bring you a well-stitched tiger. But catch me while you can. Not sure if I’ll let you spend the night. Sometimes, after hours, I get itchy feet. If we’re in it for the long road, heading for touring and extensive travels, try to keep the baggage wagons to a minimum.
But rest assured, just as the curtains close, when we’re in bed, I’ll whisper that the secret of the entire circus is this: “By the way, for a sure win, you have to lovingly aim The Claw at the upright loner animal, ignore the body, and cover the whole head!”
Time to blowoff,
JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw
-- C.A. MacConnell
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
Hold on, let me grab my megaphone: LADIEEESSS AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO MY SHOW, DATERS!
Occupation: Stuffed Animal Claw Machine maintenance man, although some in my close troupe call me the “Prop Man.” Alas, I am an independent contractor, but I hold down full-time hours, and on the side, I also work for cherry pie.
Gender: Male
Age: 55
Hair: purple/black, thick as cotton candy
Attire: the finest, shiniest wardrobe, always, such as: a bright tailcoat (red with gold trim), a waistcoat, a black top hat, and a bow tie.
Here’s my best pitch: natives, towners, orphans, step right up! Settle down into any grocery store side show or movie theatre game room, aka, my front yard. In advance, if you’re one of the lucky few, perhaps I’ll even give you a pass to have your hand at The Claw! Gather ‘round and try and beat me at the game! Try and try again. It’s utterly impossible. No matter your take, I have the X on the machine. No novelties will ever reach your hands. You’ll stay deep in the blues, buried in the nosebleed section. Daters, your search ends at The Claw, my big house.
Interested in: not picky, folks! I like all onlookers, those with or without quarters and also, all passing fans with crumpled ace notes, fins, or sawbucks. Bring a spoiled buck, and the machine will spit it out every time! Daily, for hours, I swallow down some dukeys while watching the crowds attempt to shove a dollar in The Claw dollar feeder again and again and again. Also, watching trapeze, sideshows, Spanish web, handling pickled punk, participating in the iron jaw, and discovering human oddities are all activities that make me hard. Overall, I have a preference for jugglers, bally broads, and bally girls, and I admit…indeed…I have spent some time with the boys in clown alley.
Interests: I am an expert calliope musician. In the past, I’ve also worked as a candy butcher, a lion tamer, and I’ve graced the back lot of numerous concession stands.
Most people jumping around these parts know this undeniable fact: because of my machine maintenance skills, anyone may get on The Claw bandwagon, but all attempts will soon be proved hopeless! That’s right, when JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw is in the ring, no one wins at The Stuffed Animal Claw Machine! Every day, with my secret, hidden grocery store cameras, behind my teaser curtain, in the back yard, which is off limits, where I have my dressing rooms, stock tents, stuffed animal cages and dens, I watch the screaming kids and mommies and daddies throw hundreds of quarters away, all the while listening to a chorus of passersby who remark the following: "Oh my god, I've never seen anyone win on that thing!" At this key point in the show, I laugh, nod, and watch attempt after attempt and failure after failure. Red lights all the way.
I love my life!
Go ahead, kick the machine.
Shake it.
Punch it.
Make a little wish.
Do a little dance.
Do it all again.
No matter what, it won’t work, friends. The Claw is mine.
Now, I will admit this: there is one, angular move…I repeat…one…secret way to win, but only I know the truth, although a certain audience member once came close. One wild cat, a forty-something woman wearing cartoon pajamas, entered the grocery near sunset, and she thought that she was beginning to catch on to my mastermind and yes indeed, she was able to grab one bull elephant’s ear, and she almost…I repeat…almost…dropped the creature in the hole. Every day, right on time, she came and made quite a speck, but I soon grew tired of her flea bag antics and so, I was forced to do this: I refilled the machine and stuffed the animals down in there so tight, even the smallest monkey had to struggle to breathe. After my slick maneuver, even when using distraction tactics, force, sheer talent, and dexterity, Pajama Woman couldn’t win.
Well, would you believe this: Sponge Bob Princess came back!
So, the next time I refilled the machine, I scattered the animals to the sides. I like to call it this: "curbing them," which means that there was no way The Claw could even reach a bear’s ear. I admit that the curbing maneuver was somewhat cruel.
Would you believe this: the Freak Show Woman still returned for more torture! Then, listen close, folks: she hunkered down. She shook the entire machine. She nearly broke the center pole. She even straddled the corner and humped the glass, attempting to make one of the tigers fall into a possible “grabbing location.”
I admit, it almost turned me on, but this is a Sunday school show. Anyway, she was oh…so…close.
So then, I had to pull out The Stuffed Animal Claw Machine emergency protocol. That’s right, I, JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw, resorted to the lowest of the low. I stooped to a horrifying level that no one in The Claw Family has ever dared duplicate! I did this:
That’s right! I hooked the claw on its own cord, so no matter what maneuvers Onesie Woman tried -- shaking the machine, screaming at the joystick, punching the glass, whatever -- the claw couldn't move.
Bow down, Slipper Queen. You will fold every time. Time for your show to close. Shuffle home and find another Claw and dig your eyeballs out. The Claw Machine is mine. Take your unicorn slippers and go home emptyhanded like the rest.
By the way, when I’m done watching my roomful of hidden cameras, if you’re not busy later, we should make a show date under the stars, no tent. I like thunderstorms and long walks in the park. I’ll take you to the cook house. Or, when the flag’s up, maybe we could grab a dog or some floss at a grease joint. No worries, I’ll dig into the garbage and bring you a well-stitched tiger. But catch me while you can. Not sure if I’ll let you spend the night. Sometimes, after hours, I get itchy feet. If we’re in it for the long road, heading for touring and extensive travels, try to keep the baggage wagons to a minimum.
But rest assured, just as the curtains close, when we’re in bed, I’ll whisper that the secret of the entire circus is this: “By the way, for a sure win, you have to lovingly aim The Claw at the upright loner animal, ignore the body, and cover the whole head!”
Time to blowoff,
JohnnyHacksawTwoFingersClaw
-- C.A. MacConnell
Wednesday, July 5, 2023
Stay Tuned, and a Suggestion.
Hello daters! We at the F'n Rad Dating Site just wanted to take a moment to check in. We have a new potential dater profile coming to you soon, and he is so excited to meet you all that he can barely tear himself away from his hidden cameras! More on that later...
In the meantime, an important word of advice. Always remember, if you are on a date, and you're chewing gum, and you need to get rid of it to dive in for the kiss, whatever you do, don't dispose of the gum discreetly. Instead, spit it out on the sidewalk and make sure to aim for an open location where someone is sure to step on it.
This dating tactic is referred to as "correct gum placement."
Sincerely,
The F'n Rad Dating Site
Saturday, June 24, 2023
Advertisement: B.S. Investments' Three-legged Dirty Harry
Hi daters on the scene! We at the F'n Rad Dating Site are forced to take a brief hiatus, as our C.E.O. is currently being subpoenaed for time spent with a choice dater called Sunny Spaniels, who is quite a looker, we might add, but not actually a free potential dater, we found out later. Well, in light of the current case, we are forced to bring you yet another word from our sponsor, B.S. Investments. Read and learn...
Make no mistake, riders. The rumors are true. Maybe Three-legged Dirty Harry wasn't made for the traditional racetrack, but after his extensive reform, Harry has stunned the equestrian world and proven himself in numerous disciplines. Just a mere two years back, our veteran, 40-year trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury, graciously saved Three-legged Dirty Harry from slaughter in Florida. Equipped with automatic firearms, our elite, concealed-carry-trained veterinary team literally dragged Harry off of the boat when he was heading overseas for dog food. Although the meat cutters sawed off one of his legs before we could haul poor, innocent, suffering Harry to a sanctuary in Santa Cruz, California, just one mere year into his recovery, this soft-hearted, but determined talent, a 17h bay gelding, proved himself to the entire equestrian world. After his recovery, Harry went on to win the Grand National Steeplechase event, as well as the Grand Prix at Kentucky Indoors. Respected throughout the horse world, stylish and well-rounded through and through, Harry enjoys his time off on the automatic walker, as well as the aquaciser, in order to continue his therapy, but between sessions, he is ready and eager to carry any rider, large or small, experienced or novice; this show-stopper is a champion in any ring. In addition, with the purchase of Harry, the lucky owner will receive a full set of equine supplements, ten year's worth of monthly free nerve blocking treatments, as well as tools geared toward assistance with his breathing -- a full pack of tongue ties! -- all approved legal for horse sports.
For more information on this gentle, unique giant, please contact our 45-year veteran trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury at DIR-TY33.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
Wednesday, June 14, 2023
Advertisement: B.S. Investments' Neck Triangle
Hello daters on the prowl! First, we apologize. You see, we at the F’n Rad Dating Site recently posted a bio for our potential dater, MrRogersMOFO, but unfortunately, we discovered that his bio was indeed…purely spam. Quite embarrassing for us to admit, but we’re glad we caught the faker before he dug into OUR neighborhood. Anyway, please bear with us while we sort through the millions of recent potential dating applications we have received. In spite of this minor snafu, we have some good news! Our sponsor, B.S. Investments, has just received a patent for a new scientific wardrobe creation. Read and learn. And now, a word from our sponsor, B.S. Investments…
B.S. Investments' Neck Triangle
Folks, pay attention. Not to the bear, no. Look closer. See that strange, triangle-shaped threading that has suddenly appeared on sweatshirts in recent years? Well, search no more...at B.S. Investments, we've recently received a patent, and we’ve named that sucker the "Neck Triangle." Think about it, daters…when you were growing up, a Neck Triangle never existed on any sweatshirt that you owned. Never. These days, when you head out to buy a sweatshirt, it is damn hard to find one without the Neck Triangle. They are everywhere. Take a look around -- all over the planet, people are wearing sweatshirts with the Neck Triangle. Soon, they will take over the world. And sometimes, even some long-sleeved T-shirts have the Neck Triangle. Pretty soon, short-sleeved shirts will have the Neck Triangle. Then tank tops. And yes,...we at B.S. Investments have discovered a way to sew the Neck Triangle onto bikini tops as well.
What is life without the Neck Triangle? Without it, it could cost you your job, your finances, your relationships, your personal hygiene, and in the years before the Neck Triangle existed, many were driven back to the booze. You see, if you remove the stitching of the Neck Triangle, mass chaos ensues. Soon, the shirt turns to threads. A bomb goes off in every major city. Aliens descend from Uranus. Next, you guessed it -- Tom Cruise and the War of the Worlds. Armageddon, people.
Go ahead. Head on out to the store and without a doubt, you’ll see B.S. Investments’ Neck Triangle on a tank top. Soon, it’ll spread across the nation and the world. Don’t miss out! Get your Neck Triangle before it's too late!
Now, you might ask yourself this: Yo, what the fuck is that thing? Why is it there? What is the purpose? Exactly. That’s where the genius rests. Just buy it. Who gives a fuck.
And when you look down, keep asking yourself, Yo, what the fuck is that thing?
For more information on the Neck Triangle, please contact B.S. Investments at 543-NECK.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
B.S. Investments' Neck Triangle
Folks, pay attention. Not to the bear, no. Look closer. See that strange, triangle-shaped threading that has suddenly appeared on sweatshirts in recent years? Well, search no more...at B.S. Investments, we've recently received a patent, and we’ve named that sucker the "Neck Triangle." Think about it, daters…when you were growing up, a Neck Triangle never existed on any sweatshirt that you owned. Never. These days, when you head out to buy a sweatshirt, it is damn hard to find one without the Neck Triangle. They are everywhere. Take a look around -- all over the planet, people are wearing sweatshirts with the Neck Triangle. Soon, they will take over the world. And sometimes, even some long-sleeved T-shirts have the Neck Triangle. Pretty soon, short-sleeved shirts will have the Neck Triangle. Then tank tops. And yes,...we at B.S. Investments have discovered a way to sew the Neck Triangle onto bikini tops as well.
What is life without the Neck Triangle? Without it, it could cost you your job, your finances, your relationships, your personal hygiene, and in the years before the Neck Triangle existed, many were driven back to the booze. You see, if you remove the stitching of the Neck Triangle, mass chaos ensues. Soon, the shirt turns to threads. A bomb goes off in every major city. Aliens descend from Uranus. Next, you guessed it -- Tom Cruise and the War of the Worlds. Armageddon, people.
Go ahead. Head on out to the store and without a doubt, you’ll see B.S. Investments’ Neck Triangle on a tank top. Soon, it’ll spread across the nation and the world. Don’t miss out! Get your Neck Triangle before it's too late!
Now, you might ask yourself this: Yo, what the fuck is that thing? Why is it there? What is the purpose? Exactly. That’s where the genius rests. Just buy it. Who gives a fuck.
And when you look down, keep asking yourself, Yo, what the fuck is that thing?
For more information on the Neck Triangle, please contact B.S. Investments at 543-NECK.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
Saturday, June 3, 2023
SnifflesClishay007
Letter from potential dater, SnifflesClishay007, to the F’n Rad Dating Site...
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
Straight from the horse’s mouth, I am 100% alone. This gig is solo. Not attached at the hip. The writing is on the wall. I know this may seem like a pipe dream, or that something's fishy here, but it’s completely solid. Flatten your goosebumps, or I’ll read you the riot act. I admit I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and I’ve been playing hooky all day, but I’ve got the plan in mind, and here’s what will happen: tonight, we’ll lick this plan into shape. I won’t beat around the bush here, cheesecake. Hope I’m not barking up the wrong tree, but follow my rules, and it’ll be as easy as falling off a log. When you arrive at Shaft Records, my old stamping ground, I will be standing near the Lionel Ritchie collection wearing all black. And a redneck trucker hat, just to fit in. And some enormous, mod, green sunglasses. I will be the only one not wearing Chuck Taylors, so you will know for sure it is me, Sniffles. When you see me, say, “I like Lionel, don’t you?” And I will respond, “I just bought a Guns-n-Roses poster.” And I will show you the poster, and I will give you the white elephant. You will do a double take, and we will face the music and know we are soul mates. That’s the plan. The plan will not change, so no worrying, prima donna. I am never wishy-washy. Do not even look at anyone else or talk gibberish, or I will develop a stiff upper lip, then turn into a green-eyed monster. On the flip side, once we make contact, you can let your hair down, and we’ll have a makeout session to break the ice, then let out all of our skeletons from the closet and go for a bite. I heard through the grapevine that some of you got in some trouble laying an egg when you attempted dating on this site. Now, I pulled some strings over at Wild Hole Food Bistro, where we can swallow some chicken feed and stare at the skid row bums. They know I’m a bigwig. So, we can build a fire under that grocery gang and save the cash for later. If you think I’m going to sponge off of you forever, you’re mistaken. But if I smell a rat at Hole Food, we’ll have to skip back to my place. I know you’re a little wet behind the ears with making whoopee, but we can give it a whirl. But if you go AWOL before morning, you'll be dead as a doornail by afternoon. I caught my last date, MsShyStr8Shooter, red-handed trying to sneak out. Well, she was at the end of her rope anyway, I guess. I hope it’s not raining cats and dogs. I have somewhat of a cold. Snif, snif. We’ll just have to bite the bullet and give it a shot. Rest. The night might prove to be exhausting, because I really like to dance, and as for hip hop moves, I am the top banana. I’ll get three sheets to the wind, and you can watch and have your nicotine. We’ll paint the town red, darlin. I respect your business of dating, but not the country that it serves. For this reason, if the date doesn’t go well, I will surely get my hands on another cracker jack. If any of this rubs me the wrong way, and if there’s any question in your mind who is running the show here, well, it’s me. No pressure on your end. I never keep a lady guessing. Always stick to the plan. However, I’m not pulling your leg here. If you do not follow my instructions, I will put you through a rigorous makeover.
Name: SnifflesClishay007
Age: No spring chicken
Status: Widower, she’s six feet under
Gender: your man
Looking for: let me rack my brain…if the partner knows all of my business and then wants to skedaddle, well, we’ll have to settle that when the time comes, involving target practice. And we will settle it. I enjoy closure.
Interested in: fast cars, late night quickie marts, hanky panky, pull-up bars, thunderstorms, fast, long walks, large duffel bags, locked suitcases, blowing bubbles, playing hide and seek on trains and subways, cracking crossword puzzles, walking my pit bull, mass quantities of Sudafed, science experiments, nipping things in the bud, baseball bats.
Occupation: graveyard shift, “warehouse lab technician,” don juan, the life of riley, read between the lines, I’m either loaded or I don’t do diddly squat
Body type: 5’8″, super sheik, I make young ladies blush and grannies laugh, up to snuff, fit as a fiddle
Eyes: brownish
Hair: bald, clean as a whistle
Tattoos/piercings: not sure what to make of the whole shebang
Children: Johnny, fifteen. He’s off the cuff. Helps me around the lab. I’d like to have a few more and keep it in the family, if it’s in the cards, because lately, business has been very busy, and we’re really filling up the trucks, and we could use a few more hands around the warehouse. Johnny’s nothing to be sneezed at.
Favorite movies: Blow, Pulp Fiction, Oceans 11, Die Hard, and don’t tell anyone, I mean it, if you do, there will be trouble, but I do love All Dogs Go to Heaven. Snif, snif.
Favorite TV shows: Cops, The Science Channel, and Dancing with the Stars makes me cry buckets.
I am on cloud nine, hanging on by the skin of my teeth. I WILL SEE YOU AT SHAFT RECORDS. Don’t make any first moves and don’t spill the beans, under any circumstances. No loopholes here. The man should always shoot the bull, then make the first move. And bring home the bacon. Don’t pass the buck or let the cat out of the bag. I will tell you when to act, and there won’t be any trouble, and you will have yourself a new boyfriend, lock, stock, and barrel. Remember, you don’t know beans about this, if anyone asks. If you hit the panic button, I might go haywire, and someone might kick the bucket or become a sandwich, hit the bitter end, see.
Well, I’m gung ho on this one. Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. You are the bee’s knees. I’m afraid I might fall for you hook, line and sinker.
My motto: hands down or throw in the towel.
SnifflesClishay007
--C.A. MacConnell
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
Straight from the horse’s mouth, I am 100% alone. This gig is solo. Not attached at the hip. The writing is on the wall. I know this may seem like a pipe dream, or that something's fishy here, but it’s completely solid. Flatten your goosebumps, or I’ll read you the riot act. I admit I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and I’ve been playing hooky all day, but I’ve got the plan in mind, and here’s what will happen: tonight, we’ll lick this plan into shape. I won’t beat around the bush here, cheesecake. Hope I’m not barking up the wrong tree, but follow my rules, and it’ll be as easy as falling off a log. When you arrive at Shaft Records, my old stamping ground, I will be standing near the Lionel Ritchie collection wearing all black. And a redneck trucker hat, just to fit in. And some enormous, mod, green sunglasses. I will be the only one not wearing Chuck Taylors, so you will know for sure it is me, Sniffles. When you see me, say, “I like Lionel, don’t you?” And I will respond, “I just bought a Guns-n-Roses poster.” And I will show you the poster, and I will give you the white elephant. You will do a double take, and we will face the music and know we are soul mates. That’s the plan. The plan will not change, so no worrying, prima donna. I am never wishy-washy. Do not even look at anyone else or talk gibberish, or I will develop a stiff upper lip, then turn into a green-eyed monster. On the flip side, once we make contact, you can let your hair down, and we’ll have a makeout session to break the ice, then let out all of our skeletons from the closet and go for a bite. I heard through the grapevine that some of you got in some trouble laying an egg when you attempted dating on this site. Now, I pulled some strings over at Wild Hole Food Bistro, where we can swallow some chicken feed and stare at the skid row bums. They know I’m a bigwig. So, we can build a fire under that grocery gang and save the cash for later. If you think I’m going to sponge off of you forever, you’re mistaken. But if I smell a rat at Hole Food, we’ll have to skip back to my place. I know you’re a little wet behind the ears with making whoopee, but we can give it a whirl. But if you go AWOL before morning, you'll be dead as a doornail by afternoon. I caught my last date, MsShyStr8Shooter, red-handed trying to sneak out. Well, she was at the end of her rope anyway, I guess. I hope it’s not raining cats and dogs. I have somewhat of a cold. Snif, snif. We’ll just have to bite the bullet and give it a shot. Rest. The night might prove to be exhausting, because I really like to dance, and as for hip hop moves, I am the top banana. I’ll get three sheets to the wind, and you can watch and have your nicotine. We’ll paint the town red, darlin. I respect your business of dating, but not the country that it serves. For this reason, if the date doesn’t go well, I will surely get my hands on another cracker jack. If any of this rubs me the wrong way, and if there’s any question in your mind who is running the show here, well, it’s me. No pressure on your end. I never keep a lady guessing. Always stick to the plan. However, I’m not pulling your leg here. If you do not follow my instructions, I will put you through a rigorous makeover.
Name: SnifflesClishay007
Age: No spring chicken
Status: Widower, she’s six feet under
Gender: your man
Looking for: let me rack my brain…if the partner knows all of my business and then wants to skedaddle, well, we’ll have to settle that when the time comes, involving target practice. And we will settle it. I enjoy closure.
Interested in: fast cars, late night quickie marts, hanky panky, pull-up bars, thunderstorms, fast, long walks, large duffel bags, locked suitcases, blowing bubbles, playing hide and seek on trains and subways, cracking crossword puzzles, walking my pit bull, mass quantities of Sudafed, science experiments, nipping things in the bud, baseball bats.
Occupation: graveyard shift, “warehouse lab technician,” don juan, the life of riley, read between the lines, I’m either loaded or I don’t do diddly squat
Body type: 5’8″, super sheik, I make young ladies blush and grannies laugh, up to snuff, fit as a fiddle
Eyes: brownish
Hair: bald, clean as a whistle
Tattoos/piercings: not sure what to make of the whole shebang
Children: Johnny, fifteen. He’s off the cuff. Helps me around the lab. I’d like to have a few more and keep it in the family, if it’s in the cards, because lately, business has been very busy, and we’re really filling up the trucks, and we could use a few more hands around the warehouse. Johnny’s nothing to be sneezed at.
Favorite movies: Blow, Pulp Fiction, Oceans 11, Die Hard, and don’t tell anyone, I mean it, if you do, there will be trouble, but I do love All Dogs Go to Heaven. Snif, snif.
Favorite TV shows: Cops, The Science Channel, and Dancing with the Stars makes me cry buckets.
I am on cloud nine, hanging on by the skin of my teeth. I WILL SEE YOU AT SHAFT RECORDS. Don’t make any first moves and don’t spill the beans, under any circumstances. No loopholes here. The man should always shoot the bull, then make the first move. And bring home the bacon. Don’t pass the buck or let the cat out of the bag. I will tell you when to act, and there won’t be any trouble, and you will have yourself a new boyfriend, lock, stock, and barrel. Remember, you don’t know beans about this, if anyone asks. If you hit the panic button, I might go haywire, and someone might kick the bucket or become a sandwich, hit the bitter end, see.
Well, I’m gung ho on this one. Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. You are the bee’s knees. I’m afraid I might fall for you hook, line and sinker.
My motto: hands down or throw in the towel.
SnifflesClishay007
--C.A. MacConnell
Tuesday, May 30, 2023
Advertisement: Oreo Cookie Mega Stuff
Hello daters on the prowl! Bear with us at the F'n Rad Dating Site while we sort through our numerous dating applications, which are hot and heavy at the moment! Until we present you with a new potential dater, please enjoy this word from our sponsor, B.S. Investments...
Horse for Sale: B.S. Investments' Oreo Cookie Mega Stuff
Oreo Cookie Mega Stuff, or "Mega," as we call him at the barn, is a 5yo,14.2 hand, Morgan/Appaloosa/Warmblood stallion cross who was recently shipped in from overseas. In his past endeavors, Mega participated in the Royal Windsor Horse Show, as well as the London International Horse Show, placing in the top three. Although he's known for the speed of his trot over long distances, as well as the scope of his jump, Mega can tackle a canter pirouette with the best of any dressage test. An extremely social horse, Mega prefers to sleep in groups, and he will make a fine addition to any field or paddock. Although his skin is more delicate, and his bones are more fragile than the average horse, Mega has been known to carry a rider of any weight. He's a "kick and go" type of horse with a fast and easy gait, no rider experience necessary, but sometimes, due to his camouflage, it is difficult to find him amongst the rest of the herd. For this reason, Mega's been trained to answer to the wild, frantic, high-pitched yell: "Come home, COOKIE!" Scream that like a hyena, and he'll come running back to the barn every time. Mega has excellent hearing and eyesight, and he can run at speeds of up to 35 miles per hour; he also has a powerful kick that can cause serious injury to a predator, like a raccoon, a possum, a lion, or an African wild dog, if you come upon any such pest at the stable. No farrier necessary. Mega's hard hooves are designed to withstand the impact of his body weight, as well as the dangers of any rocky terrain.
For more information on B.S. Investments' Oreo Cookie Mega Stuff, please contact our 30-year veteran trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury at 543-MEGA.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
For more information on B.S. Investments' Oreo Cookie Mega Stuff, please contact our 30-year veteran trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury at 543-MEGA.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
Sunday, May 28, 2023
SweatItOut987
Letter from potential dater, SweatItOut987, to the F'n Rad Dating Site...
Dear F'n Rad Dating Site:
Hello, F’n Rad daters! I admit I haven’t been dating much, due to my recent health problems. Currently, I have a rather large boil on my testicle, but I popped it, so I don't think it's infected. Here’s a picture I posted to Facebook in order to get some feedback. I’d like your opinion on it...
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Body type: gaunt
Hair: bald, due to a bout of psoriasis
Looking for: a sterile person. I also have a flu/covid/ear infection or something, as well as a torticollis of the neck, and so it may be difficult for me to turn my head and kiss you, but I will try! I would love to date if I weren’t so sick. The last time I got really sick like this was back in 2000. That's why I'm so incredibly stubborn when it comes to getting ill. I hate resting, but this one has taken me out. Now, I would visit the doctor, but I feel that social media is a better reference, and when it comes to this stuff, you and your body are on your own. But if you get sick, and we’re dating, my advice is to sweat it out.
Interested in: did I just hear you cough? You need rest, then you’ll feel better after you watch another movie. OH, I’ve had what you have. Better make sure you’re on an antibiotic. You should call someone to take a look at that! I’m on Flonase, but whatever you do, don’t use Afrin, because that’s addictive. My doc is great. You should call her. Mucinex works. You should try that. Or maybe not, you're already on some stuff, I dunno. Use that saline spray. That'll help your throat. Your eyes look red too. Back a few years ago, I had conjunctivitis once! My eye was seeping out and disgusting. It was like pouring out. Sounds like a BAD one. How’s about an ear candle? You ever tried that? I love those things. They're so cool. I don't know if they work, but they're cool. You're fine. You're getting better. Give it some time. Oh, man, you should call the doctor. I know you're not good at it at all, but maybe you should take it easy. Oh, I've had that before, it's BAD. Oh my god, I think I'm getting that too! It’s going around. Everyone at the office has it. I think my boss is still coughing, and I think he has the same thing, but he's two days ahead of you, I think. My Mom's been dealing with that all month. Make sure you eat. You gotta eat. Do you have a fever? How high? Try that neti pot. Do you have one? I don't have one, but I hear they work great. It's all connected up there...it's all just mucous. This could be life-shattering, and you’ll probably need surgery, but I have a strategy for you if you’re interested. Whether you are dealing with allergies or a heart attack, Epsom salts should do the trick.
STAND BACK! INCOMING!!
Did your ears just pop? Mine did. I also have an inverted nipple. I think I’ll hit the google search and Web MD. Wonder why my left hand isn’t working. And it seems as if there is blood pouring out of my right eye. Wonder what that means.
Can’t wait to spoon! With gloves on! See you soon! Can't wait to make love wearing plastic! <3
SweatItOut987
-- C.A. MacConnell
Sunday, May 7, 2023
Advertisement: Serene Moondancer
Hi daters! When we received the letter from IAMBobbieH2O yesterday, we were not aware of what the consequences might prove to be. It seems that while he was sending his profile to us at the F'n Rad Dating Site, Bobbie was slightly distracted at Bobo Breeze Indoor Water Park! when he was supposed to be lifeguarding children. Unfortunately, as a result, we have come into some slight legal trouble. Until we can sort out the details, please bear with us as we send you a word from our sponsor, B.S. Investments. Thank you for your patience. Sincerely, the F'n Rad Dating Site. And now, a word from our sponsor...
Horse for Sale: B.S. Investments' Serene Moondancer
Serene Moondancer, or "Moon," as we call him at the barn, after earning the title of "United States Equestrian Team Horse of the Year," Moon showed on the A-circuit hunter/jumper level for 10 years, qualifying for Nationals, easily winning the Maclay Medal finals 5 years in a row. Proving himself as the perfect equitation horse on the planet, in addition, Moon is as calm and collected as they come, appropriate to use for walk/trot, crosspole, lead line, and beginner lessons. A smooth, mature ride, he has known success in every equestrian discipline, from barrel racing to intercollegiate to short stirrup. In 2010, once again, he galloped into stardom when he won the Kentucky Derby with lengths to spare. A mere short time later, he trotted his way through elite Saddlebred classes, moving on to become a Dressage legend. Although he has been gelded since his time on the track, Moon still prefers the ladies, and he would make a perfect trail horse for any aspiring, wealthy, retired owner who enjoys carrying a flask inside her hunt coat. As versatile as they come, Moon requires no turnout, as he is accustomed to the stall life 24/7. Over the years, during his endless time inside, he has learned to only poop and pee in one small corner of the stall, which makes for an easy clean. Although he cribs and kicks the barn walls so much that we had to renovate half of the stable, in hindsight, we realized it really needed a new look. Once, he escaped and adeptly kicked out the automatic watering system in every stall, causing a flash flood and the death of 3 cats, but it washed our aisles, making them sparkle and shine...well...like the moon. Daily, while cooped up, Moon has been quite useful. Often, Moon takes out at least 10 barn rats with one swipe of his hoof.
Serene Moondancer, or "Moon," as we call him at the barn, after earning the title of "United States Equestrian Team Horse of the Year," Moon showed on the A-circuit hunter/jumper level for 10 years, qualifying for Nationals, easily winning the Maclay Medal finals 5 years in a row. Proving himself as the perfect equitation horse on the planet, in addition, Moon is as calm and collected as they come, appropriate to use for walk/trot, crosspole, lead line, and beginner lessons. A smooth, mature ride, he has known success in every equestrian discipline, from barrel racing to intercollegiate to short stirrup. In 2010, once again, he galloped into stardom when he won the Kentucky Derby with lengths to spare. A mere short time later, he trotted his way through elite Saddlebred classes, moving on to become a Dressage legend. Although he has been gelded since his time on the track, Moon still prefers the ladies, and he would make a perfect trail horse for any aspiring, wealthy, retired owner who enjoys carrying a flask inside her hunt coat. As versatile as they come, Moon requires no turnout, as he is accustomed to the stall life 24/7. Over the years, during his endless time inside, he has learned to only poop and pee in one small corner of the stall, which makes for an easy clean. Although he cribs and kicks the barn walls so much that we had to renovate half of the stable, in hindsight, we realized it really needed a new look. Once, he escaped and adeptly kicked out the automatic watering system in every stall, causing a flash flood and the death of 3 cats, but it washed our aisles, making them sparkle and shine...well...like the moon. Daily, while cooped up, Moon has been quite useful. Often, Moon takes out at least 10 barn rats with one swipe of his hoof.
Such a champion shouldn't be endangered by time outside in the field.
With the purchase of Moon, you'll also receive a free bucking strap, an autographed stick (which used to be a pitchfork before Moon grabbed a hold of it with his teeth and decimated it), and a full bottle of blood thinners, Ace, and other herbal tranquilizers to combat Moon's anxiety disorder, all designated legal prescriptions for horse sports.
If you are interested in Serene Moondancer, please contact our 20-year, veteran trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury at 543-Moon.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
If you are interested in Serene Moondancer, please contact our 20-year, veteran trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury at 543-Moon.
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
Saturday, May 6, 2023
IAMBobbieH2O
Letter from potential dater, IAMBobbieH2O, to the F’n Rad Dating Site...
Dear F'n Rad Dating Site:
Safety is my middle name. If YOU get in the way of my safety or the safety of one of these kids that have parents but are really MINE, we're done. You are no longer a part of my life if you mess with MY kids or the safety precautions necessary for my work. Just something I have to suffer through daily, a commitment of the job. And it won't change, so don't hope.
Anyway, I'm Bobbie, and I mostly like to stand.
I'm a lifeguard over at the Bobo Bird Breeze Indoor Water Park! I earned my whistle the other day, and I feel very at home here. There are many interesting people like me that work here. There's Pat, Chris, Charlie, and my best friend in the whole world, Chuck. I like Chuck the best because he knows who he is, and I aim to be that kind of person. We all do here. Chuck is the head lifeguard, and it takes MANY INTENSE TRAINING CLASSES to achieve his status and know who you really are. When he started here, he had to wear a life jacket, and he would only swim in the Lazy River or the 2'6" baby pool, and his name was Stacy.
Hang on, just getting used to the water this morning for work. Have to EASE in. Little chilly today. One should always allow the body time to adjust. Otherwise, a child could experience SHALLOW WATER BLACKOUT, NARCOSIS, AND OXYGEN TOXICITY, as well as IMPENDING COMA OR DEATH. Make sure to allow 30 minutes after eating before getting in the pools OR YOU MIGHT CHOKE ON YOUR OWN VOMIT OR LOSE CONTROL OF YOUR MUSCLE MEMORY AND DIE. I'm tougher than the children, because I practice for hours before work. I'm told by my coworkers that I would make a good polar bear, deep sea unknown fish, or megalodon.
Sorry, I'm a little distracted BY THE GOOSE BUMPS. Just adding in some HEAVY DUTY CHLORINE. We put so much chlorine in this pool, YOU’LL BE TASTING IT FOR DAYS if you go for a swim in here. Also works well for acne control. Good thing, too. Just about every kid around ILLEGALLY URINATES in this pool. Every now and then, straight sugar puke. Even saw one UNATTENDED TODDLER DEFACATE UNCONTROLLABLY in the baby pool once, but don't tell the parents because the parties are really expensive here. Hang on, let me take care of this IMPENDING HEALTH HAZARD. I must clean this wet Band-Aid and hair out of the drain.
Interests: CPR, Watching children, CENTERS FOR MISSING CHILDREN, fountains, tubes, pools, chemicals, ceramic mushrooms that shoot out water, plastic palm trees, watching sprinklers, family showers, RISK ASSESSMENTS, cheez pizza, MAINTENANCE OF PERSONAL PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT, vanilla bean ice cream, birthdays, FIRST AID KITS, twirling my whistle, wearing suits with shorts, scuba diving, diving in general, goggles, HEALTH AND WELFARE, enjoying 80 degree weather all year round, RED CROSS SAFETY CLASSES, shopping at DICKS Sporting Goods, AMERICAS MOST WANTED, football, baseball, field hockey, POISON CONTROL, women's olympic swimming and sometimes men's, FIRE AND EMERGENCY PROTOCOL, synchronized swimming, HEIMLICH MANEUVER, mermaids and mermen, cartoons with mermaids and mermen, MOUTH TO MOUTH, and drag shows at The Porthole down by the river.
Body Type: a li'l extra on the sides and the middle and legs and arms, although my legs are pretty muscular from standing. Chuck tells me I'm as wide as I am tall, and I like to be consistent with that, so I work at by eating as much pizza and ice cream and cake as I can whenever the kids have a birthday party here, which is every day or so. Just one of the perks of the job.
Eyes: brown, SLIGHTLY TAINTED and bloodshot from this water. I'm actually not sure what's in this water, but there's no bacteria, because nothing could live in this water. Absolutely nothing. IF YOU JUMP IN TOO SOON, THINK SILENCE OF THE LAMBS WHEN HANNIBAL ESCAPES BY CHOPPING OFF THE GUY’S ENTIRE FACE.
Smoke/Drink: I WOULD NEVER WANT TO COMPROMISE THE SAFETY OF MY CHILDREN.
Looking for: I am looking for someone like Chuck, who knows what they want, although I'm not sure I want someone named Chuck. Perhaps I would like someone named Jo or even someone with a one letter name like E or M or something more subtle. Someone who looks nice in a bikini and/or trunks. I don't have any tattoos but when adults swim at Bobo Bird!, I become very excited and comment on their tattoos when I'm bored. And especially if they are attractive people, but I only do this if no kids are waiting to ride the slides, because I have to make sure the light is green when kids enter the tubes. RED LIGHT, NO GO. I REPEAT, WAIT FOR THE GREEN OR YOU COULD SLIDE SIDEWAYS ON THE TUBE AND NEED TO HAVE YOUR LEGS AMPUTATED. I SAW SOMEONE LOSE A FOOT TO THE YELLOW LIGHT.
ONLY THE GREEN LIGHT ON THE SLIDES. DEATH IS ON THE LINE HERE.
Occupation: Lifeguard at Bobo Bird Breeze Indoor Water Park!
Age: 20ish
Gender: Male-ish
Kids: Not sure if I can, due to an accident that happened on Bobo Bird! Jungle Jim during the Hose Fest! last year.
Hair: Brown, short, sticks straight up. I love waterproof hair wax.
Interested in: Yes. I've been single a really long time, actually, my whole life. I have many diverse friends, so I'm not depressed, but it would be nice to have a significant other person who is short, tall, heavy, slim, or medium, although I think a person with thin legs and a nice size chest and a large back would work best in case I need help rescuing anyone. Someone with a rescue dog would be welcome. GIVE ME TIME TO WARM UP AFTER I GET OUT OF THE POOL. OTHERWISE, SHRINKAGE.
Thank you so much for reading my profile. Well, before the families arrive, I have to go see if I can hang from that netting cross the lily pad pond today without falling in! I have faith I can do it today. Yesterday, I fell in and did a sort of loud cannonball and Chuck was texting, but when he was done texting he really laughed.
Come visit Bobo Bird Breeze! I'll give you a free three-hour wristband; however, delays might happen if we're dating. Just one of the TOUGH AND DANGEROUS aspects of my job. Wanted to be up front about that. There may be days, nights, even weeks of disappointment for my lovers, due to time spent saving Bobo Bird's! childREN IN NEED. IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS AND ENTER THE POOLS TOO SOON, THE CHEMICALS COULD MELT YOUR SKIN OFF LIKE NICOLAS CAGE IN FACE-OFF HOLY SHIT I LOVE THAT MOVIE BUT MY CHILDREN WILL NEVER LOSE THEIR FACES WHILE I’M ON DUTY.
GOTTA RUN! I THINK I HEAR A DESPERATE CRY FOR HELP!
IAMBobbieH2O
Dear F'n Rad Dating Site:
Safety is my middle name. If YOU get in the way of my safety or the safety of one of these kids that have parents but are really MINE, we're done. You are no longer a part of my life if you mess with MY kids or the safety precautions necessary for my work. Just something I have to suffer through daily, a commitment of the job. And it won't change, so don't hope.
Anyway, I'm Bobbie, and I mostly like to stand.
I'm a lifeguard over at the Bobo Bird Breeze Indoor Water Park! I earned my whistle the other day, and I feel very at home here. There are many interesting people like me that work here. There's Pat, Chris, Charlie, and my best friend in the whole world, Chuck. I like Chuck the best because he knows who he is, and I aim to be that kind of person. We all do here. Chuck is the head lifeguard, and it takes MANY INTENSE TRAINING CLASSES to achieve his status and know who you really are. When he started here, he had to wear a life jacket, and he would only swim in the Lazy River or the 2'6" baby pool, and his name was Stacy.
Hang on, just getting used to the water this morning for work. Have to EASE in. Little chilly today. One should always allow the body time to adjust. Otherwise, a child could experience SHALLOW WATER BLACKOUT, NARCOSIS, AND OXYGEN TOXICITY, as well as IMPENDING COMA OR DEATH. Make sure to allow 30 minutes after eating before getting in the pools OR YOU MIGHT CHOKE ON YOUR OWN VOMIT OR LOSE CONTROL OF YOUR MUSCLE MEMORY AND DIE. I'm tougher than the children, because I practice for hours before work. I'm told by my coworkers that I would make a good polar bear, deep sea unknown fish, or megalodon.
Sorry, I'm a little distracted BY THE GOOSE BUMPS. Just adding in some HEAVY DUTY CHLORINE. We put so much chlorine in this pool, YOU’LL BE TASTING IT FOR DAYS if you go for a swim in here. Also works well for acne control. Good thing, too. Just about every kid around ILLEGALLY URINATES in this pool. Every now and then, straight sugar puke. Even saw one UNATTENDED TODDLER DEFACATE UNCONTROLLABLY in the baby pool once, but don't tell the parents because the parties are really expensive here. Hang on, let me take care of this IMPENDING HEALTH HAZARD. I must clean this wet Band-Aid and hair out of the drain.
Interests: CPR, Watching children, CENTERS FOR MISSING CHILDREN, fountains, tubes, pools, chemicals, ceramic mushrooms that shoot out water, plastic palm trees, watching sprinklers, family showers, RISK ASSESSMENTS, cheez pizza, MAINTENANCE OF PERSONAL PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT, vanilla bean ice cream, birthdays, FIRST AID KITS, twirling my whistle, wearing suits with shorts, scuba diving, diving in general, goggles, HEALTH AND WELFARE, enjoying 80 degree weather all year round, RED CROSS SAFETY CLASSES, shopping at DICKS Sporting Goods, AMERICAS MOST WANTED, football, baseball, field hockey, POISON CONTROL, women's olympic swimming and sometimes men's, FIRE AND EMERGENCY PROTOCOL, synchronized swimming, HEIMLICH MANEUVER, mermaids and mermen, cartoons with mermaids and mermen, MOUTH TO MOUTH, and drag shows at The Porthole down by the river.
Body Type: a li'l extra on the sides and the middle and legs and arms, although my legs are pretty muscular from standing. Chuck tells me I'm as wide as I am tall, and I like to be consistent with that, so I work at by eating as much pizza and ice cream and cake as I can whenever the kids have a birthday party here, which is every day or so. Just one of the perks of the job.
Eyes: brown, SLIGHTLY TAINTED and bloodshot from this water. I'm actually not sure what's in this water, but there's no bacteria, because nothing could live in this water. Absolutely nothing. IF YOU JUMP IN TOO SOON, THINK SILENCE OF THE LAMBS WHEN HANNIBAL ESCAPES BY CHOPPING OFF THE GUY’S ENTIRE FACE.
Smoke/Drink: I WOULD NEVER WANT TO COMPROMISE THE SAFETY OF MY CHILDREN.
Looking for: I am looking for someone like Chuck, who knows what they want, although I'm not sure I want someone named Chuck. Perhaps I would like someone named Jo or even someone with a one letter name like E or M or something more subtle. Someone who looks nice in a bikini and/or trunks. I don't have any tattoos but when adults swim at Bobo Bird!, I become very excited and comment on their tattoos when I'm bored. And especially if they are attractive people, but I only do this if no kids are waiting to ride the slides, because I have to make sure the light is green when kids enter the tubes. RED LIGHT, NO GO. I REPEAT, WAIT FOR THE GREEN OR YOU COULD SLIDE SIDEWAYS ON THE TUBE AND NEED TO HAVE YOUR LEGS AMPUTATED. I SAW SOMEONE LOSE A FOOT TO THE YELLOW LIGHT.
ONLY THE GREEN LIGHT ON THE SLIDES. DEATH IS ON THE LINE HERE.
Occupation: Lifeguard at Bobo Bird Breeze Indoor Water Park!
Age: 20ish
Gender: Male-ish
Kids: Not sure if I can, due to an accident that happened on Bobo Bird! Jungle Jim during the Hose Fest! last year.
Hair: Brown, short, sticks straight up. I love waterproof hair wax.
Interested in: Yes. I've been single a really long time, actually, my whole life. I have many diverse friends, so I'm not depressed, but it would be nice to have a significant other person who is short, tall, heavy, slim, or medium, although I think a person with thin legs and a nice size chest and a large back would work best in case I need help rescuing anyone. Someone with a rescue dog would be welcome. GIVE ME TIME TO WARM UP AFTER I GET OUT OF THE POOL. OTHERWISE, SHRINKAGE.
Thank you so much for reading my profile. Well, before the families arrive, I have to go see if I can hang from that netting cross the lily pad pond today without falling in! I have faith I can do it today. Yesterday, I fell in and did a sort of loud cannonball and Chuck was texting, but when he was done texting he really laughed.
Come visit Bobo Bird Breeze! I'll give you a free three-hour wristband; however, delays might happen if we're dating. Just one of the TOUGH AND DANGEROUS aspects of my job. Wanted to be up front about that. There may be days, nights, even weeks of disappointment for my lovers, due to time spent saving Bobo Bird's! childREN IN NEED. IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS AND ENTER THE POOLS TOO SOON, THE CHEMICALS COULD MELT YOUR SKIN OFF LIKE NICOLAS CAGE IN FACE-OFF HOLY SHIT I LOVE THAT MOVIE BUT MY CHILDREN WILL NEVER LOSE THEIR FACES WHILE I’M ON DUTY.
GOTTA RUN! I THINK I HEAR A DESPERATE CRY FOR HELP!
IAMBobbieH2O
-- C.A. MacConnell
Sunday, April 30, 2023
Letter of Sympathy from DaManDaMutt12345
Good morning, daters. We at the F’n Rad Dating Site feel that we should be accountable. We must bring you all some horrible, shocking news. It seems that our potential dater, MelonHoneyDewYou, has passed away. In a service down by the river, she was remembered dearly by Uncle Billy, Daddy, Mama, Grandpa, the ancestors, the family bluegrass band, Aunt Jewel, her plumber brother, her preschool friend Bob, her sister who wears crop tops, the hairspray lady from the west side, Mamaw, and the neighbor Sally. Let us pause to reflect.
We’d tell you the particulars, but we’ll keep it to ourselves out of respect for her family. Never mind, here goes. As we all know, Melon was openly seeing our other potential dater, DaManDaMutt12345, and we are pleased to know she found true love before she died. It seems that Melon was on her way to the recording studio to pick up Mutt while he was finishing up fresh Phil Collins mixes, when poor Melon lost control of his souped-up Hyundai, and she rolled it three times. But that wasn’t what killed her. She crawled out of the twisted, burning wreck, dusted herself off, and headed to the Newport on the Levee, where she became enamored with the man from the zoo holding the boa constrictor as a fun display. Of course, brave Melon asked to hold the snake, and the boa took a liking to her, and that snake hugged her close, but she threw it down and chopped it’s head off, so that wasn’t what killed her either. After Melon caught her breath, she decided to catch a movie, on account of the “choice snacks,” like her man always said. Melon became slightly carried away with the popcorn/twizzler combination, which formed a hard ball in her mouth, and she swallowed that ball of petrified goo, and it lodged just so in her throat, and she lost her life “choking like a DNA daddy on Jerry Springer,” her tanked Mama said later. We are sorry to see her go. Please send the family and DaManDaMutt12345 your condolences.
Her potential man, the skater, DaManDaMutt12345, was gracious enough to write a sympathy letter to Melon’s Mama, and we’d like to share it with you now, as we feel it is an appropriate example of how to write a compassionate sympathy letter. Read and learn. Sincerely, and with sympathy, the entire F’n Rad Dating Site.
Letter of Sympathy to Melon's Mama, from DaManDaMutt12345
Dear Melon’s MILF, one liquored up Mama who gets me:
Holy shit, Mama, you’re ripe, you know wha I’m sayin? Baby wipe your pits, you feel me? I have a truckload of the choice unscented Pampers I lifted from the IGA, yo, and you’re at that age when you can’t trust a fart, like when I’m comin’ down from the China White, and I have no idea how I might toss out my insides, so I feel you, and I’m comin’ to save you like Aquaman rising up from some goddamn paradise ocean.
Whaddup Mama? I'm real fuckin’ sorry that bitch Melon is gone. We both know she might be in heaven, which is something like a drained pool you wanna hit with your brother all night – no cracks, no drains, no falls – just a nonstop smack party like no other. Now don’t get all wussy on me, Mama. You skate, you break bones, you die. We all know Melon’s in a better place, organic or some shit, but fuck, now that I think about it, we really don’t know that, do we? I mean, that tithouse chick, aka Planet Nipple, could be stuck in a Chuck E. Cheese in the sky, and we’d never really know. I’m just glad that fuckin’ horny bitch’s suffering is over, because you and I both know she was hitting the snake man as a side order, along with that white-haired bony girl at the car dealership. No more than a lost dog, but on account of the way she sucked down curly fries, maybe she’s inside a superdeluxe Rally’s or packed tight in a Happy Meal Neverending Story now. I believe in the Big Fat Man in the Sky, with his super creepo divine dick. Actually, not sure if she’s better off. How the hell would any brother know that for real? I’m sure you and the fam are full of sorrow and grief but get your ass up and have some funtimes. Find some ugly baby, call it cute. Put those supersuds and salts and squishy balls in the bathtub and shine your ass like you’re E.T. waiting for the mother ship. Hit the mall and get pedicures. Wax yo’ legs and soup your face up with toxic mud or get horny and find a choice cucumber and ram it home or some shit. I’m sayin’ you need to chill like a beast, ‘cause we all get sad and want to Dragonslay some skater who hit the pipe first, but from what Melon told me, you need some relief, because you are one crazy motherfucker.
Mama, hear me – Melon will always be with you deep on your insides, wrapped up in your intestines like a pile of worms, like you’ll be constipated forever, trying to push her fat, decaying self out your wrinkled hole; I don’t know if she’s happy about that or not, because when she was alive, she sometimes didn’t really want to be with you, but now her ghost’s stuck in your ass like a monster, skeleton turd. Her goddamn spirit will be part of you no matter where you go, even when you and the fam start burning your couch and hitting the T-bird. I know that you hoped for more time to spend with her, like an Easy Lover, but really, that was codependent as all hell, and every last brother at the skate park backs me on that action. But the sunset all-you-can-eat buffets you hit meant so much to her. She puked it all out on me when we were down at Newport on the Levee hunting for chicks and threesomes at the bowling alley. Just know that she loved you as much as those supersize bags of Lucky Charms, when she didn’t want to kill you, even that year when you were chubby. I know you will miss her insanelike, because, without her you will have to take a look at the failings in your own sad life.
Anytime, when the rooster screams or when the dope boys come out of the alleys, hit me up at the studio, the skate park, or on da live chat. Text me your digits, especially if you see some skinny cat lubed up and ready to go. With my deepest sympathy, sorry I missed the funeral. My friend Grinch fired up that new Mission Impossible flic. Tom Cruise is for real, spider-climbing those skyscrapers smoother than any superhero, even Batman, who kills it with that magic, supersonic car.
Sorry for your loss, Mama. I’ll get at you later when I’m not so high. I’m more girly when I’m coming down. Yo, I’m here for your ass, any time you need me - just to listen, or to talk, or if that sister with the smokin’ abs feels like having insane grief sex.
Christ, Tom Cruise. What fucking stamina.
DaManDaMutt12345
-- C.A. MacConnell
We’d tell you the particulars, but we’ll keep it to ourselves out of respect for her family. Never mind, here goes. As we all know, Melon was openly seeing our other potential dater, DaManDaMutt12345, and we are pleased to know she found true love before she died. It seems that Melon was on her way to the recording studio to pick up Mutt while he was finishing up fresh Phil Collins mixes, when poor Melon lost control of his souped-up Hyundai, and she rolled it three times. But that wasn’t what killed her. She crawled out of the twisted, burning wreck, dusted herself off, and headed to the Newport on the Levee, where she became enamored with the man from the zoo holding the boa constrictor as a fun display. Of course, brave Melon asked to hold the snake, and the boa took a liking to her, and that snake hugged her close, but she threw it down and chopped it’s head off, so that wasn’t what killed her either. After Melon caught her breath, she decided to catch a movie, on account of the “choice snacks,” like her man always said. Melon became slightly carried away with the popcorn/twizzler combination, which formed a hard ball in her mouth, and she swallowed that ball of petrified goo, and it lodged just so in her throat, and she lost her life “choking like a DNA daddy on Jerry Springer,” her tanked Mama said later. We are sorry to see her go. Please send the family and DaManDaMutt12345 your condolences.
Her potential man, the skater, DaManDaMutt12345, was gracious enough to write a sympathy letter to Melon’s Mama, and we’d like to share it with you now, as we feel it is an appropriate example of how to write a compassionate sympathy letter. Read and learn. Sincerely, and with sympathy, the entire F’n Rad Dating Site.
Letter of Sympathy to Melon's Mama, from DaManDaMutt12345
Dear Melon’s MILF, one liquored up Mama who gets me:
Holy shit, Mama, you’re ripe, you know wha I’m sayin? Baby wipe your pits, you feel me? I have a truckload of the choice unscented Pampers I lifted from the IGA, yo, and you’re at that age when you can’t trust a fart, like when I’m comin’ down from the China White, and I have no idea how I might toss out my insides, so I feel you, and I’m comin’ to save you like Aquaman rising up from some goddamn paradise ocean.
Whaddup Mama? I'm real fuckin’ sorry that bitch Melon is gone. We both know she might be in heaven, which is something like a drained pool you wanna hit with your brother all night – no cracks, no drains, no falls – just a nonstop smack party like no other. Now don’t get all wussy on me, Mama. You skate, you break bones, you die. We all know Melon’s in a better place, organic or some shit, but fuck, now that I think about it, we really don’t know that, do we? I mean, that tithouse chick, aka Planet Nipple, could be stuck in a Chuck E. Cheese in the sky, and we’d never really know. I’m just glad that fuckin’ horny bitch’s suffering is over, because you and I both know she was hitting the snake man as a side order, along with that white-haired bony girl at the car dealership. No more than a lost dog, but on account of the way she sucked down curly fries, maybe she’s inside a superdeluxe Rally’s or packed tight in a Happy Meal Neverending Story now. I believe in the Big Fat Man in the Sky, with his super creepo divine dick. Actually, not sure if she’s better off. How the hell would any brother know that for real? I’m sure you and the fam are full of sorrow and grief but get your ass up and have some funtimes. Find some ugly baby, call it cute. Put those supersuds and salts and squishy balls in the bathtub and shine your ass like you’re E.T. waiting for the mother ship. Hit the mall and get pedicures. Wax yo’ legs and soup your face up with toxic mud or get horny and find a choice cucumber and ram it home or some shit. I’m sayin’ you need to chill like a beast, ‘cause we all get sad and want to Dragonslay some skater who hit the pipe first, but from what Melon told me, you need some relief, because you are one crazy motherfucker.
Mama, hear me – Melon will always be with you deep on your insides, wrapped up in your intestines like a pile of worms, like you’ll be constipated forever, trying to push her fat, decaying self out your wrinkled hole; I don’t know if she’s happy about that or not, because when she was alive, she sometimes didn’t really want to be with you, but now her ghost’s stuck in your ass like a monster, skeleton turd. Her goddamn spirit will be part of you no matter where you go, even when you and the fam start burning your couch and hitting the T-bird. I know that you hoped for more time to spend with her, like an Easy Lover, but really, that was codependent as all hell, and every last brother at the skate park backs me on that action. But the sunset all-you-can-eat buffets you hit meant so much to her. She puked it all out on me when we were down at Newport on the Levee hunting for chicks and threesomes at the bowling alley. Just know that she loved you as much as those supersize bags of Lucky Charms, when she didn’t want to kill you, even that year when you were chubby. I know you will miss her insanelike, because, without her you will have to take a look at the failings in your own sad life.
Anytime, when the rooster screams or when the dope boys come out of the alleys, hit me up at the studio, the skate park, or on da live chat. Text me your digits, especially if you see some skinny cat lubed up and ready to go. With my deepest sympathy, sorry I missed the funeral. My friend Grinch fired up that new Mission Impossible flic. Tom Cruise is for real, spider-climbing those skyscrapers smoother than any superhero, even Batman, who kills it with that magic, supersonic car.
Sorry for your loss, Mama. I’ll get at you later when I’m not so high. I’m more girly when I’m coming down. Yo, I’m here for your ass, any time you need me - just to listen, or to talk, or if that sister with the smokin’ abs feels like having insane grief sex.
Christ, Tom Cruise. What fucking stamina.
DaManDaMutt12345
-- C.A. MacConnell
Saturday, April 29, 2023
Advertisement: Mister Magic Man
We at the F'n Rad Dating Site have been on a brief hiatus, due to receiving some tragic news, which we will keep to ourselves. Never mind, we'll tell you tomorrow. Stay tuned. Until then, here's a word from our sponsor.
A message from our sponsor, B.S. Investments...
Horse for Sale: B.S. Investments' Mister Magic Man
Sired out of the great Lipizzaner stallion, Dickinson Rabbit, Mister Magic Man has graced our stable since he was a mere foal, fresh out of the sack of the great Welsh mare, Glenda Good Witch, known by all in the horse world to have the smoothest vagina in the land. Rest assured; Magic is like no other horse. He requires little to no upkeep. Magic eats flowers, drinks fresh air, doesn't make manure, and instead of the chiropractor, we call in the woodland fairies, who are extremely affordable. Unlike other show horses, with perfection and ease, Magic jumps the 4' Regular Working Hunter classes barefoot, as his hooves are made of pure gold. Although he will sometimes disappear due to his invisible powers, Magic always returns for the Florida show circuit season, and the proof is in the ribbons. Certainly, in cases of a tie, the horn comes in handy.
Sired out of the great Lipizzaner stallion, Dickinson Rabbit, Mister Magic Man has graced our stable since he was a mere foal, fresh out of the sack of the great Welsh mare, Glenda Good Witch, known by all in the horse world to have the smoothest vagina in the land. Rest assured; Magic is like no other horse. He requires little to no upkeep. Magic eats flowers, drinks fresh air, doesn't make manure, and instead of the chiropractor, we call in the woodland fairies, who are extremely affordable. Unlike other show horses, with perfection and ease, Magic jumps the 4' Regular Working Hunter classes barefoot, as his hooves are made of pure gold. Although he will sometimes disappear due to his invisible powers, Magic always returns for the Florida show circuit season, and the proof is in the ribbons. Certainly, in cases of a tie, the horn comes in handy.
Please contact our veteran 20-year trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury. 243-MAGI
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
Thursday, March 30, 2023
Dating Suggestions: WAGD
Recently, here at the F’n Rad Dating Site, our millions of potential daters have sent us messages regarding skin care suggestions, and we are here to help! To answer your skin pleas for mercy, along with our sponsor, B.S. Investments, and our partnership with Dragon Ballz University, we have now teamed up with WAGD’s new skin care line!!!!!! Any potential dater on the F’n Rad Dating Site is eligible for a one-time discount! And now, a message from our partner, WAGD!. Read and learn…
New Beauty Cream: WAGD!
ATTENTION SKIN CARE LOVERS. JUST RELEASED ...
New skin care product on the line, ... for you.
Fresh, unique, affordable, and it works like no other face cream you have experienced before. Right here, right now, throw away all of your current beauty treatments, because what we’ve developed in our laboratories will take them all to the cleaners …
And your first sample is FREE! That's right, 100% free!!
... and then, for the low monthly membership of $49.99, you can treat your skin right up until your last breath. And if you act now, you can join during the trial period for only $49.69 per month!!!
We're waiting for you.
Recent scientific findings show that our product goes beyond where any skin cream has gone before. Our revolutionary cream, called WAGD!, “We’re All Gonna Die!” is absolutely pure and unrefined, containing many chemicals, but no harsh ingredients. WAGD! is made entirely of nothing but all natural, unfiltered tap water. That’s right, tap water. Carefully bottled near a stream in Mesopotamia, our tap water is the finest on the market. Add a little soap, and presto, clean face skin. Experts have found that WAGD! has been helping all genders for centuries. It might seem that you could just use your own tap water; however, ours is carefully geared toward everyone. That's right, everyone -- the young and old, toddlers and infants, and even animals. Whether you are fat as hell, skinny as a rail, gay, straight, confused, a Democrat, a Republican, or Bernie Sanders, our team of research panelists have discovered that WAGD! tap water is the finest in the world, and it is highly effective ...
for you AND your horse.
ACT NOW, and you'll receive a free bar of lye soap along with your bottle of WAGD!! If you're a new customer, we’ll also include a free “We’re All Gonna Die!” T-shirt! What more could you ask for?
If you're STILL not convinced, here are some recent testimonials:
“Before I tried WAGD!, I tried all of the most expensive beauty creams imaginable. Through your company, I've realized that I’m just gonna die, and I’ve been using your tap water ever since. This change has completely altered my life.” – Betty “Sandface” Lynn, CEO and straight mother of two, Massachusetts.
“I’ve been wearing my WAGD! T-shirt out shopping and everywhere I go, people stop me to ask what I’ve been doing because I look so different. When I tell them I’m almost dead, I get so much attention. So rewarding!” – Rachel Zimmerban, single closet lesbian mother, Iowa.
“WAGD! Oh my god, I love you,” – Steve Carbonwise, flaming gay lawyer and pie maker, Germany.
“At first, I just used the trial package, and I saw that my skin was beginning to flake off, but when I realized that WAGD! was automatically charging my credit card, I thought, ‘What the hell, they’re right, who cares if my face melts and I go in debt, because we’re all gonna die.’ I feel so free! I will be a committed member until I’m dead!” – Lucy “Patchycheek” Smithers, taxi driver, asexual, into toys, Dubai.
Sadly, due to climate change and increased shipping costs, our product will soon be unavailable...you must act NOW.
Thank you so much to our new customers! We look forward to doing business with the world. We aim to please. Our customer service team is ready and waiting!
THIS JUST IN: if you hurry, we'll also include a FREE "We're All Gonna Die" key chain.
Sincerely,
The WAGD Team
-- C.A. MacConnell
New Beauty Cream: WAGD!
ATTENTION SKIN CARE LOVERS. JUST RELEASED ...
New skin care product on the line, ... for you.
Fresh, unique, affordable, and it works like no other face cream you have experienced before. Right here, right now, throw away all of your current beauty treatments, because what we’ve developed in our laboratories will take them all to the cleaners …
And your first sample is FREE! That's right, 100% free!!
... and then, for the low monthly membership of $49.99, you can treat your skin right up until your last breath. And if you act now, you can join during the trial period for only $49.69 per month!!!
We're waiting for you.
Recent scientific findings show that our product goes beyond where any skin cream has gone before. Our revolutionary cream, called WAGD!, “We’re All Gonna Die!” is absolutely pure and unrefined, containing many chemicals, but no harsh ingredients. WAGD! is made entirely of nothing but all natural, unfiltered tap water. That’s right, tap water. Carefully bottled near a stream in Mesopotamia, our tap water is the finest on the market. Add a little soap, and presto, clean face skin. Experts have found that WAGD! has been helping all genders for centuries. It might seem that you could just use your own tap water; however, ours is carefully geared toward everyone. That's right, everyone -- the young and old, toddlers and infants, and even animals. Whether you are fat as hell, skinny as a rail, gay, straight, confused, a Democrat, a Republican, or Bernie Sanders, our team of research panelists have discovered that WAGD! tap water is the finest in the world, and it is highly effective ...
for you AND your horse.
ACT NOW, and you'll receive a free bar of lye soap along with your bottle of WAGD!! If you're a new customer, we’ll also include a free “We’re All Gonna Die!” T-shirt! What more could you ask for?
If you're STILL not convinced, here are some recent testimonials:
“Before I tried WAGD!, I tried all of the most expensive beauty creams imaginable. Through your company, I've realized that I’m just gonna die, and I’ve been using your tap water ever since. This change has completely altered my life.” – Betty “Sandface” Lynn, CEO and straight mother of two, Massachusetts.
“I’ve been wearing my WAGD! T-shirt out shopping and everywhere I go, people stop me to ask what I’ve been doing because I look so different. When I tell them I’m almost dead, I get so much attention. So rewarding!” – Rachel Zimmerban, single closet lesbian mother, Iowa.
“WAGD! Oh my god, I love you,” – Steve Carbonwise, flaming gay lawyer and pie maker, Germany.
“At first, I just used the trial package, and I saw that my skin was beginning to flake off, but when I realized that WAGD! was automatically charging my credit card, I thought, ‘What the hell, they’re right, who cares if my face melts and I go in debt, because we’re all gonna die.’ I feel so free! I will be a committed member until I’m dead!” – Lucy “Patchycheek” Smithers, taxi driver, asexual, into toys, Dubai.
Sadly, due to climate change and increased shipping costs, our product will soon be unavailable...you must act NOW.
Thank you so much to our new customers! We look forward to doing business with the world. We aim to please. Our customer service team is ready and waiting!
THIS JUST IN: if you hurry, we'll also include a FREE "We're All Gonna Die" key chain.
Sincerely,
The WAGD Team
-- C.A. MacConnell
Sunday, March 26, 2023
Success Story: MsBaristaGrindXO298
Hi daters! After posting yesterday’s letter, we here at the F’n Rad Dating Site have discovered a genuine partnership! We are pleased to announce that MsBaristaGrindXO298 is ALSO into MrBarista777! Yes, it is indeed reciprocal! The ultimate display of personal growth and stellar communication between these two is magnificent, and their triumphant connection has stumped therapists everywhere. We fully believe that these potential daters are going to make it together for the long haul. Here is a letter from her in response to his response. Read and learn...
Letter from MsBaristaGrindXO298 to the F’n Rad Dating Site…
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
OHHHHHHHH. MrBarista777, me in shitter at work, read yer resposne on site hereyestereday, im no starbuck star like you, just a lowly bakery barstia, but no tim to write bk, gotta make cookie & sweep up kids cake icing & choco syrup all over floor fuckin toddler Peecassos. Just hit whip cream nitrous, Hahahahhhahahaha. Ahhahhahahahahahh. Livingon caramelnut brownies, cakepops, & drk choco espresso bean. Off at midnght. Marry u round 2am? Bak here 3am. Sry. Cya soon. XO, 777. Willwritesomeday but Hope you get my feels. Til then, Here’s my day….wait, nuther empty whip…lemme hit that nozzle again…. hahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah…ok, bak. Here’s an exacto transcript, my day…
Customer (approaching register with a walker, looking wet): Hello young lady! I'll have a coffee for here.
Barista: On the house. I'm so sorry you're a cripple.
Customer: What did you say? Wow, it's really raining out there!
Barista: Thank god, I love the rain.
Customer: Oh, that's nice, you do?
Barista: (smiling wide) Yeah, drives most people away from here.
Customer (furrowed brow): Well, that’s some greeting.
Barista (wiping her nose): Sorry, how’s this – how can I help you?
Customer: You know, you really shouldn't wipe your nose when you're greeting a customer. Very rude.
Barista: Oh, sorry, I just have this massive booger in there, just trying to dig it out. Hang on, let me see if I can get it and show you. Then you'll understand.
Customer (raising brows): ANYWAY, I think it’s about to storm out there.
Barista: Really? I should bring the tables in from outside. Or would you like to? You look like the kind of woman who could use a workout.
Customer: Funny.
Barista: No, I'm serious. Your arms are flabby as hell.
Customer: The nerve! But it's weird...it’s muggy inside here.
Barista: Yep, the windows are all steamy.
Customer: Is your A.C. broken?
Barista: Good guess. No, we're preparing the room for later when we turn this into a hot yoga studio.
Customer: Whoa, how is it you still work here?! Before I order, can I have change for a dollar?
Barista: Sure, just using me for change, eh?
Customer: Um, I’m gonna eat here.
Barista: Yeah, that's what they all say...
Customer: No really, I’m ready to order as soon as I get some change.
Barista: Ha! You're really good.
Customer: I'm serious! Can I have some change?
Barista: Not sure...now I feel kind of used, and I'm really not that kind of person anymore.
Customer: I will spend money here! Give me some change!
Barista (chomping gum): Let me go take my smoke break back out by the dumpster and think about this issue we're having, and we can talk it out in an hour or so, when we've had time to think it over and decide on a better course for our relationship.
Customer: Geez, never mind, I’ll take my chances on the ticket. You know, you really shouldn't chew gum while you're working. It's rude.
Barista: I know, so sorry. Here, (taking the gum out of her mouth and sticking it on the counter) will you hold on to this for me for later?
Customer (shrinking back): I'll have the usual.
Barista: I'm sorry, was that the latte, or the Italian soda?
Customer: It's the blueberry tea.
Barista: Oh, that's right, I had you confused with another fat cripple. We’re out of that tea.
Customer (making an "O" with her mouth) Ohhhhh, are those beautiful teapots for sale?
Barista (making an "O" with her mouth): Ohhhhh, NO.
Customer (looking right): Is that the health department here?
Barista: Probably.
Customer (shrugs): Oh, well, I'll have the soup.
Barista: You sure? Not sure what's in it. You ever watch that movie, Fried Green Tomatoes?
Customer: Forget the soup. I’ll have a smoothie.
Barista: Man, seriously?
Customer: What?
Barista: Oh, nothing, it's just that I just cleaned the blender. You know, disinfected it and everything for closing.
Customer: Won't you have to use it again? It's only 10 a.m.
Barista: Yeah, I usually start closing around 10 a.m. I like to be prepared. I'm a real go-getter.
Customer: Oh I see, well, can I get that smoothie anyway?
Barista: Hm, let’s see, sure, but if you want whipped cream, I'm sorry.
Customer: But doesn't that come with it?
Barista: Yeah, normally, but I already cleaned the whipped cream nozzle, and I don't want to get it dirty again. See, I'm nervous that I won't get everything done before 6.
Customer: Can I have a blackberry one?
Barista: Sure, as soon as I go down to the farmer's market and gather some blackberries for you, and then I have to stop behind our dumpster and have my smoke break. Right after that, it'll be right up.
Customer (rolling eyes): All right, well, strawberry?
Barista: Hm, I already put the strawberry mix away in the fridge, and it's buried behind all the iced teas...it's all packed in there perfectly. You should see it. Really, it's amazing I fit it all for closing every day. So would you mind banana? I think I can get to that.
Customer: Really, I want strawberry.
Barista: Hows about four berry, and we'll call it a day.
Customer: I guess that'll work.
Barista (starting the blender and shouting): Hey, you want a Diet Coke with this? I'm trying to get rid of those to fit the selzer in the fridge for closing.
Customer: It's 10 a.m.!
Barista: No doubt, but it'll get wild in here later. Here's your four berry! Enjoy!
Customer (taking smoothie): Um, yeah, thanks. Hey, do you have anything fat-free, or do you have the calories listed somewhere?
Barista: We have pastries. They are very, very fattening.
Customer: Oh, well, I'm just trying to watch my calorie intake.
Barista: I've got a Powerbar in my locker if you want it!
Customer: That's okay, I'm allergic to eggs and wheat. What would you suggest?
Barista (smiling wide): I've got another stick of gum in my pocket. Kinda old, but it's sugar-free!
Customer: Never mind. Thank you for the smoothie.
Barista: You’re welcome, but lady, next time, can you come in a little earlier, so that I’m not in the middle of getting ready for closing?
MsBaristaGrindXO298
-- C.A. MacConnell
Letter from MsBaristaGrindXO298 to the F’n Rad Dating Site…
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
OHHHHHHHH. MrBarista777, me in shitter at work, read yer resposne on site hereyestereday, im no starbuck star like you, just a lowly bakery barstia, but no tim to write bk, gotta make cookie & sweep up kids cake icing & choco syrup all over floor fuckin toddler Peecassos. Just hit whip cream nitrous, Hahahahhhahahaha. Ahhahhahahahahahh. Livingon caramelnut brownies, cakepops, & drk choco espresso bean. Off at midnght. Marry u round 2am? Bak here 3am. Sry. Cya soon. XO, 777. Willwritesomeday but Hope you get my feels. Til then, Here’s my day….wait, nuther empty whip…lemme hit that nozzle again…. hahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah…ok, bak. Here’s an exacto transcript, my day…
Customer (approaching register with a walker, looking wet): Hello young lady! I'll have a coffee for here.
Barista: On the house. I'm so sorry you're a cripple.
Customer: What did you say? Wow, it's really raining out there!
Barista: Thank god, I love the rain.
Customer: Oh, that's nice, you do?
Barista: (smiling wide) Yeah, drives most people away from here.
Customer (furrowed brow): Well, that’s some greeting.
Barista (wiping her nose): Sorry, how’s this – how can I help you?
Customer: You know, you really shouldn't wipe your nose when you're greeting a customer. Very rude.
Barista: Oh, sorry, I just have this massive booger in there, just trying to dig it out. Hang on, let me see if I can get it and show you. Then you'll understand.
Customer (raising brows): ANYWAY, I think it’s about to storm out there.
Barista: Really? I should bring the tables in from outside. Or would you like to? You look like the kind of woman who could use a workout.
Customer: Funny.
Barista: No, I'm serious. Your arms are flabby as hell.
Customer: The nerve! But it's weird...it’s muggy inside here.
Barista: Yep, the windows are all steamy.
Customer: Is your A.C. broken?
Barista: Good guess. No, we're preparing the room for later when we turn this into a hot yoga studio.
Customer: Whoa, how is it you still work here?! Before I order, can I have change for a dollar?
Barista: Sure, just using me for change, eh?
Customer: Um, I’m gonna eat here.
Barista: Yeah, that's what they all say...
Customer: No really, I’m ready to order as soon as I get some change.
Barista: Ha! You're really good.
Customer: I'm serious! Can I have some change?
Barista: Not sure...now I feel kind of used, and I'm really not that kind of person anymore.
Customer: I will spend money here! Give me some change!
Barista (chomping gum): Let me go take my smoke break back out by the dumpster and think about this issue we're having, and we can talk it out in an hour or so, when we've had time to think it over and decide on a better course for our relationship.
Customer: Geez, never mind, I’ll take my chances on the ticket. You know, you really shouldn't chew gum while you're working. It's rude.
Barista: I know, so sorry. Here, (taking the gum out of her mouth and sticking it on the counter) will you hold on to this for me for later?
Customer (shrinking back): I'll have the usual.
Barista: I'm sorry, was that the latte, or the Italian soda?
Customer: It's the blueberry tea.
Barista: Oh, that's right, I had you confused with another fat cripple. We’re out of that tea.
Customer (making an "O" with her mouth) Ohhhhh, are those beautiful teapots for sale?
Barista (making an "O" with her mouth): Ohhhhh, NO.
Customer (looking right): Is that the health department here?
Barista: Probably.
Customer (shrugs): Oh, well, I'll have the soup.
Barista: You sure? Not sure what's in it. You ever watch that movie, Fried Green Tomatoes?
Customer: Forget the soup. I’ll have a smoothie.
Barista: Man, seriously?
Customer: What?
Barista: Oh, nothing, it's just that I just cleaned the blender. You know, disinfected it and everything for closing.
Customer: Won't you have to use it again? It's only 10 a.m.
Barista: Yeah, I usually start closing around 10 a.m. I like to be prepared. I'm a real go-getter.
Customer: Oh I see, well, can I get that smoothie anyway?
Barista: Hm, let’s see, sure, but if you want whipped cream, I'm sorry.
Customer: But doesn't that come with it?
Barista: Yeah, normally, but I already cleaned the whipped cream nozzle, and I don't want to get it dirty again. See, I'm nervous that I won't get everything done before 6.
Customer: Can I have a blackberry one?
Barista: Sure, as soon as I go down to the farmer's market and gather some blackberries for you, and then I have to stop behind our dumpster and have my smoke break. Right after that, it'll be right up.
Customer (rolling eyes): All right, well, strawberry?
Barista: Hm, I already put the strawberry mix away in the fridge, and it's buried behind all the iced teas...it's all packed in there perfectly. You should see it. Really, it's amazing I fit it all for closing every day. So would you mind banana? I think I can get to that.
Customer: Really, I want strawberry.
Barista: Hows about four berry, and we'll call it a day.
Customer: I guess that'll work.
Barista (starting the blender and shouting): Hey, you want a Diet Coke with this? I'm trying to get rid of those to fit the selzer in the fridge for closing.
Customer: It's 10 a.m.!
Barista: No doubt, but it'll get wild in here later. Here's your four berry! Enjoy!
Customer (taking smoothie): Um, yeah, thanks. Hey, do you have anything fat-free, or do you have the calories listed somewhere?
Barista: We have pastries. They are very, very fattening.
Customer: Oh, well, I'm just trying to watch my calorie intake.
Barista: I've got a Powerbar in my locker if you want it!
Customer: That's okay, I'm allergic to eggs and wheat. What would you suggest?
Barista (smiling wide): I've got another stick of gum in my pocket. Kinda old, but it's sugar-free!
Customer: Never mind. Thank you for the smoothie.
Barista: You’re welcome, but lady, next time, can you come in a little earlier, so that I’m not in the middle of getting ready for closing?
MsBaristaGrindXO298
-- C.A. MacConnell
Saturday, March 25, 2023
Success Story: MrBarista777
Hi daters! We have yet another match! MrBarista777 has written the F’n Rad Dating Site to inform us that he’s interested in MsBaristaGrindXO298! Alas, he didn’t have time to respond to her directly; however, he sent over this exact transcript of his day to let her know how well he communicates in relationships. Read and learn.
Letter from MrBarista777 to the F’n Rad Dating Site…
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
So jacked up on cold brew, caution wet floor signs up. Clean espresso machine, boss says scrape off crud. Get that fucking couple outta here I wanna go home. Maybe I’ll decapitate him with the mop, that’’l l get them gone. Gotta run, howam I gonnasleep all I ate allday was half a scone, gottachk sched, get some ZZZZzzsss b4 next shift. Just downed a leftover fucked up peppermint mocha. Damn I’m shaking, Xo. Hey, XO298, meet you at 3am. It’s llpm now, have to be back in at 4am. Lady, I have a doctorate marry me. No time to write, recorded my day to seal deal. Chk it out. CYOU at 3 hopng. CYA. OUT.
Customer: Hi, I'd like a coffee.
Barista: What size?
Customer: What size do you have?
Barista: Small, medium, large
Customer: I'd like a small.
Barista: Light or dark roast?
Customer: Light.
Barista: Hot or luke warm?
Customer: Um, hot.
Barista: With grounds in it or no grounds?
Customer (hands on hips): no grounds...
Barista: For here or to go?
Customer: To go.
Barista: Would you like it double-cupped?
Customer: Just give me my coffee?!
Barista: Would you like a sleeve? Some people don't want to waste the paper.
Customer: Yes, a sleeve! I'm in a hurry!
Barista: Sorry, did you say small?
Customer: Yes, small!
Barista: Okay, so small, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go, with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure?
Customer: How long have you worked here?
Barista: Okay, so small, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go, with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure, and you are very nosy?
Customer (turning to leave): I'll just go down the street, never mind.
Barista: Wait, so that was small coffee, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go, with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure, you are very nosy, and you are leaving?
Customer (turning back around): I have never had such poor service. How is it that you still work here?
Barista (writing on the cup): Let me just check again with you...small coffee, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure, you are very nosy, and you aren't leaving yet because you're taking out your childhood angst on me?
Customer (walks out): I'm calling the manager.
Barista: Wait! Here's your coffee! Don't forget to tip me!
Customer: Whoa, it's like a sauna outside.
Barista: Want a hot chocolate?
Customer: Funny, I was thinking something refreshing, like an iced tea.
Barista: Hows about a scalding Americano?
Customer: Maybe I'll just have a bottle of water. Do you have that?
Barista: There's a special on extra hot lattes.
Customer: Do you really work here?
Barista: Couple months.
Customer: Seems like I've seen you longer. I'd like an iced tea.
Barista: What kind? We have 50 different kinds.
Customer: Really, what are they?
Barista: How about a milk steamer?
Customer: No, I want an iced tea.
Barista: Hm, you want ice in it?
Customer: Yes!
Barista: The ice is all stuck together. I'll have to go get my chisel and hammer it apart. How about a nice hot mocha while you're waiting?
Customer: It's raining cats and dogs out there.
Barista: I thought I saw lightning.
Customer: Hm, I haven't seen lightning.
Barista: Oh, that must've just been when I slammed the electrical cord in the fridge again, no worries.
Barista: Lady, can I take your glass? Or are you still working on that frap?
Customer: Still working on it.
Barista (grabbing across the table): How about your straw?
Customer: Still using it!
Barista (grabbing across the table): Your spoon? Doesn't look like you're using that.
Customer: I'm going to use it!
Barista (taking the napkin): Man! Relax, lady! Just trying to be helpful.
Customer: Before I go, can I add on one of those chocolate cupcakes you had yesterday?
Barista: We had those yesterday, not today. What we have is out on display.
Customer: Oh, bummer.
Barista: Yeah, sorry.
Customer: What about those chicken breakfast wraps?
Barista: Negative. What we have is on display.
Customer: Where's the display?
Barista: Oh fuck, I knew I forgot something this morning.
Customer: Can I have some water?
Barista: Sure, today it's free.
Customer: Isn't it always free?
Barista: For you, yes, because you are one hot damn hippie.
MrBarista777
-- C.A. MacConnell
Letter from MrBarista777 to the F’n Rad Dating Site…
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
So jacked up on cold brew, caution wet floor signs up. Clean espresso machine, boss says scrape off crud. Get that fucking couple outta here I wanna go home. Maybe I’ll decapitate him with the mop, that’’l l get them gone. Gotta run, howam I gonnasleep all I ate allday was half a scone, gottachk sched, get some ZZZZzzsss b4 next shift. Just downed a leftover fucked up peppermint mocha. Damn I’m shaking, Xo. Hey, XO298, meet you at 3am. It’s llpm now, have to be back in at 4am. Lady, I have a doctorate marry me. No time to write, recorded my day to seal deal. Chk it out. CYOU at 3 hopng. CYA. OUT.
Customer: Hi, I'd like a coffee.
Barista: What size?
Customer: What size do you have?
Barista: Small, medium, large
Customer: I'd like a small.
Barista: Light or dark roast?
Customer: Light.
Barista: Hot or luke warm?
Customer: Um, hot.
Barista: With grounds in it or no grounds?
Customer (hands on hips): no grounds...
Barista: For here or to go?
Customer: To go.
Barista: Would you like it double-cupped?
Customer: Just give me my coffee?!
Barista: Would you like a sleeve? Some people don't want to waste the paper.
Customer: Yes, a sleeve! I'm in a hurry!
Barista: Sorry, did you say small?
Customer: Yes, small!
Barista: Okay, so small, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go, with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure?
Customer: How long have you worked here?
Barista: Okay, so small, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go, with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure, and you are very nosy?
Customer (turning to leave): I'll just go down the street, never mind.
Barista: Wait, so that was small coffee, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go, with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure, you are very nosy, and you are leaving?
Customer (turning back around): I have never had such poor service. How is it that you still work here?
Barista (writing on the cup): Let me just check again with you...small coffee, light roast, hot, no grounds, to go with a sleeve, you're in a hurry, small for sure, you are very nosy, and you aren't leaving yet because you're taking out your childhood angst on me?
Customer (walks out): I'm calling the manager.
Barista: Wait! Here's your coffee! Don't forget to tip me!
Customer: Whoa, it's like a sauna outside.
Barista: Want a hot chocolate?
Customer: Funny, I was thinking something refreshing, like an iced tea.
Barista: Hows about a scalding Americano?
Customer: Maybe I'll just have a bottle of water. Do you have that?
Barista: There's a special on extra hot lattes.
Customer: Do you really work here?
Barista: Couple months.
Customer: Seems like I've seen you longer. I'd like an iced tea.
Barista: What kind? We have 50 different kinds.
Customer: Really, what are they?
Barista: How about a milk steamer?
Customer: No, I want an iced tea.
Barista: Hm, you want ice in it?
Customer: Yes!
Barista: The ice is all stuck together. I'll have to go get my chisel and hammer it apart. How about a nice hot mocha while you're waiting?
Customer: It's raining cats and dogs out there.
Barista: I thought I saw lightning.
Customer: Hm, I haven't seen lightning.
Barista: Oh, that must've just been when I slammed the electrical cord in the fridge again, no worries.
Barista: Lady, can I take your glass? Or are you still working on that frap?
Customer: Still working on it.
Barista (grabbing across the table): How about your straw?
Customer: Still using it!
Barista (grabbing across the table): Your spoon? Doesn't look like you're using that.
Customer: I'm going to use it!
Barista (taking the napkin): Man! Relax, lady! Just trying to be helpful.
Customer: Before I go, can I add on one of those chocolate cupcakes you had yesterday?
Barista: We had those yesterday, not today. What we have is out on display.
Customer: Oh, bummer.
Barista: Yeah, sorry.
Customer: What about those chicken breakfast wraps?
Barista: Negative. What we have is on display.
Customer: Where's the display?
Barista: Oh fuck, I knew I forgot something this morning.
Customer: Can I have some water?
Barista: Sure, today it's free.
Customer: Isn't it always free?
Barista: For you, yes, because you are one hot damn hippie.
MrBarista777
-- C.A. MacConnell
Thursday, March 16, 2023
Advertisement: Nip Tuck
Hi daters on the prowl! Please bear with us at the F'n Rad Dating site as we take in the millions of dating applications we've received lately! If you are single and looking, feel free to sift through the choice potential daters already listed on this site. Thank you for your patience. And now, a word from our sponsor...
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B.S. Investments
-- C.A. MacConnell
Monday, March 6, 2023
StyrofoamMan535
Letter from potential dater, StyrofoamMan535, to the F’n Rad Dating Site
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
Without a doubt, I am the one.
There will be chills.
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Pansexual
Interested in: any other working genders holding coffee cups, office orgies
Religion: Satanism
Body Type: medium build, some small rolls due to donut consumption. In any work meeting, I am the close-shaven, clean-cut man in the back row along the wall, preferably near the closed blinds; I balance carefully, sitting with my chair tipped, expertly leaning on the back two legs. My relaxed appearance and positioning are key. Yes, I dress like any other working man, wearing business casual office attire, although on certain occasions, on the right front side of my starched, ironed shirt, there often appears a jagged, yellow trail that bears a striking resemblance to egg yolk, and my wrinkled khakis may be creepily baggy and slightly unkempt, appearing somewhat damp.
Hair: carefully placed, moist bedhead
But my appearance is no matter. What matters is what comes next...my slick moves, and the way I reveal my ever-so-subtle, demonic expertise.
Interests: at exactly ten minutes into any meeting, I release my true skill. Yes, perhaps we should call it a gift, an innate talent. Ever so slowly, I gently begin running my fingernail along the side of my Styrofoam coffee cup. And then, the real, torturous fun begins. With my thumb nail, I continue to cut into the cup, digging in for the long haul, soon becoming engrossed, making that scratchy, god-awful, spine-tingling, nail-against-Styrofoam sound for the duration of the meeting.
At first, you gaze around, but right at that moment, I skillfully pause, and you can't catch me.
When you look away, I begin sweating. Then, cunningly, with adept mastery, I continue making ultra-artistic patterns on my cup’s side with my fingernail, taking in the bitter sound, watching you squirm to the music of screaming infant seals. Grinning sideways, I then watch the heads around me begin to turn.
All over the room, confused, lost souls scan the meeting crowd, desperately looking for the source of the sound.
Perhaps you begin to glare my way again.
And then, all at once, you see my finger twitch, and you know it’s me, the genius King of Unrecyclable Art – nail digging into foam – both music and etching in one, a design of the devil, a chorus of horror.
Some of you won't be able to handle the pressure. As you feel the weakness, you think this: if I can't beat him, join him.
At last, you give in to the circus.
You begin running your nail along your own cup, and we create a little spine-tingling duet. Then we both receive evil-spirited looks.
And yet again, with precise timing, I pause.
And you get the blame.
Then, like me, you begin to feel like you could spend all day with that fucking cup.
Just think about the sound, the subtle terror. Gives you goose bumps.
And rest assured, after my choice maneuvers and competent display of thumb and index dexterity, more stares will come my way, and your way, and then another hell hound will join us, and another, and the followers will be endless, until we can't stop, and we won't stop, and all we want is more, more, more.
Contact info: listen close. Listen closer. Look around the room. I’m always there. Never forget the sound. Never, ever forget.
I will make your skin scream.
StyrofoamMan535
P.S. By the way, I'm single, and I like thunderstorms and long walks in the park.
-- C.A. MacConnell
Dear F’n Rad Dating Site:
Without a doubt, I am the one.
There will be chills.
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Pansexual
Interested in: any other working genders holding coffee cups, office orgies
Religion: Satanism
Body Type: medium build, some small rolls due to donut consumption. In any work meeting, I am the close-shaven, clean-cut man in the back row along the wall, preferably near the closed blinds; I balance carefully, sitting with my chair tipped, expertly leaning on the back two legs. My relaxed appearance and positioning are key. Yes, I dress like any other working man, wearing business casual office attire, although on certain occasions, on the right front side of my starched, ironed shirt, there often appears a jagged, yellow trail that bears a striking resemblance to egg yolk, and my wrinkled khakis may be creepily baggy and slightly unkempt, appearing somewhat damp.
Hair: carefully placed, moist bedhead
But my appearance is no matter. What matters is what comes next...my slick moves, and the way I reveal my ever-so-subtle, demonic expertise.
Interests: at exactly ten minutes into any meeting, I release my true skill. Yes, perhaps we should call it a gift, an innate talent. Ever so slowly, I gently begin running my fingernail along the side of my Styrofoam coffee cup. And then, the real, torturous fun begins. With my thumb nail, I continue to cut into the cup, digging in for the long haul, soon becoming engrossed, making that scratchy, god-awful, spine-tingling, nail-against-Styrofoam sound for the duration of the meeting.
At first, you gaze around, but right at that moment, I skillfully pause, and you can't catch me.
When you look away, I begin sweating. Then, cunningly, with adept mastery, I continue making ultra-artistic patterns on my cup’s side with my fingernail, taking in the bitter sound, watching you squirm to the music of screaming infant seals. Grinning sideways, I then watch the heads around me begin to turn.
All over the room, confused, lost souls scan the meeting crowd, desperately looking for the source of the sound.
Perhaps you begin to glare my way again.
And then, all at once, you see my finger twitch, and you know it’s me, the genius King of Unrecyclable Art – nail digging into foam – both music and etching in one, a design of the devil, a chorus of horror.
Some of you won't be able to handle the pressure. As you feel the weakness, you think this: if I can't beat him, join him.
At last, you give in to the circus.
You begin running your nail along your own cup, and we create a little spine-tingling duet. Then we both receive evil-spirited looks.
And yet again, with precise timing, I pause.
And you get the blame.
Then, like me, you begin to feel like you could spend all day with that fucking cup.
Just think about the sound, the subtle terror. Gives you goose bumps.
And rest assured, after my choice maneuvers and competent display of thumb and index dexterity, more stares will come my way, and your way, and then another hell hound will join us, and another, and the followers will be endless, until we can't stop, and we won't stop, and all we want is more, more, more.
Contact info: listen close. Listen closer. Look around the room. I’m always there. Never forget the sound. Never, ever forget.
I will make your skin scream.
StyrofoamMan535
P.S. By the way, I'm single, and I like thunderstorms and long walks in the park.
-- C.A. MacConnell
Friday, February 17, 2023
Letter of Resignation
Note from the author, C.A. MacConnell: this is actually from my comedy archives...I just thought it might be a funny way to end on this comedy site for the time being while I take a brief hiatus from blogging so that I can focus on my next book. In the meantime, I hope you can check out the rest of the characters on here as well, as I work hard on the voices, as random and ridiculous as some of them are. It takes a lot of time to settle back and grab a hold of these voices, but it's all practice for me, so I roll with it. I admit that many of the writings had me laughing to tears. :) Hope you have a beautiful day, and hope I can make you laugh too, that is all! Love to you, C.A.
At the F’n Rad Dating Site, we understand that there is a time in every dater’s life when he/she/they must change jobs in order to join a mate to cohabitate in another locale, and we encourage such choice maneuvers! When resigning from the work force, one must always leave in an appropriate manner. When it was time for our potential dater, FlyMFPegasus222, to move on from her current position, she decided to share her smooth transition with us. Here is a transcript, a perfect example of a proper resignation letter, sent to us directly from our potential dater, FlyMFPegasus222. Read and learn…
Suitable letter of resignation example, sent to the F’n Rad Dating Site, from potential dater, FlyMFPegasus222
2/17/23
Pegasus Car Wash
cc: Monster, Indeed, LinkedIn, F’n Rad Dating Site
Dear Pegasus Car Wash (that’s right, YOU, you beady-eyed prick, the person in charge who schedules me and wears the baseball cap with the fucking wings on it. When I say “prick,” I mean that in the nicest sense of the word):
I know where you live, and if you get toilet papered here soon, well, it wasn’t me; however, if you happen to receive an overnighted, unmarked box full of elephant shit, that was definitely me. Just wanted to be clear. In the workplace, I'm all about being professional and providing people with clarity, especially when it involves a special delivery order of super-sized crap.
It's important to share feelings.
Also, I'm writing to announce my formal resignation from Pegasus Car Wash, effective -- not two weeks -- but two seconds from this date. This is my official notification. In fact, by the time that you find this letter, I will already be gone. Repeat after me…Bye bye, Bye bye. Bye by bye bye bye bye bye bye by bye bbbbbb bbyyyyyyeeeee bybybybybybyby bybybybybyby bybybyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Seeya, wouldn’t wanna be ya. Later when you’re greater. Me gone. Like magic! I have vanished from your life completely. Poof. Let me be really, super-duper clear here: Ba-Bye. Bye, bye, baby, bye bye.
Actually, before you even notice this letter, I will be gone, because I am never coming back, never ever, not even to wash my car, and I will tell all other people I meet to never ever visit Pegasus. In addition, I will send out emails and fliers to people everywhere encouraging them to visit Lucky Waves Car Wash instead, because we all know they're cheaper, and they have a better variety of car fresheners that hang from the mirror. They even have the dolphin one that smells like Spring Ocean California Breeze! And you don’t, green-bean-diarrhea-for-brains, let’s face it. You lie and tell people it's out of stock, but you don’t have it, you lying sack of shit who only wears dirty sweatpants that literally make you look like a sack of shit. Now, don’t get mad – many people look like a sack of shit. I mean, on the Sack of Shit planet, you would totally fit right in.
No hard feelings, I’m just stating the obvious.
Now, let’s get real here…Lucky Waves has a Chicklets machine that actually works. Now, if it were me, and I were going to choose a car wash, that last statement would make my choice a no-brainer. Now that I’m leaving Pegasus, I can tell you that your gum choices and your clothing choice and your mean, unbelievably inaccurate scheduling emails suck balls.
Sure, I was a mere freelance worker, and you only called me in when you needed an extra Vacuum Suction Girl, but I still wanted to be thorough in my professional dealings with you and explain why I'm leaving in a kind and loving way. Here goes. I would like to give you a suggestion: take that Pegasus winged hat of yours and fly, motherfucker, fly, because you’ll need to now that I’m gone. You’re gonna be one Vacuuming Bitch for a little while. I know that I was supposed to work a shift today, but I didn’t show out of thoughts of you. See, I couldn’t find the right clothes to cover up my tattoos, and I couldn’t get the nose ring out, so I figured you wouldn’t want me coming in like that, because I've had to hide all that shit the whole time I’ve been working there, so as not to scare the high quality clients, even though the lady who works the front counter has a pierced cheek, and you let that slide because she’s totally banging you, we all know it, which is interesting and ironic, but it also makes me realize that you are a complete asshole and not to mention, your face looks like a possum, and when you dyed your hair blond it looked like snot, and so I decided I needed a change in my environment. Now, don’t take that asshole thing personally. Or the snot thing. I am just being completely open and honest with you here.
I think it’s good to get it all out on the table. I’m all about serenity and being free. I pray for you daily.
This was not an easy decision to make on my part. I cried for months. I mean, I really cried. I went to therapy, and I’ve enclosed my therapy bill as well, because I feel that Pegasus should cover the difference. I know that the bill doesn’t look like it’s coming from a therapist, because it’s on loose leaf and handwritten, but I wanted you to have the raw copy straight from my therapist’s handwriting, as I think that’s appropriate. Please pay up. Cash is best.
On a positive note, however, the past three months of Pegasus work have been very rewarding. I’ve been able to drink a shit-ton of free coffee, bum a lot of cigarettes, and I even hooked up with a few other workers, which was smokin'. Let me say that there’s more than one use for those vacuums. I totally enjoyed this part of working for you and working with a very successful (and very promiscuous) team. The tips were great!
Thank you for the opportunities for growth – the constant harassment, for talking down to me, and for all of the other amazing spiritual soul lessons that you have provided me. By the way, your blond wife can stop sending me scheduling emails now too. They make no sense, and I seriously could do a better job. Also, tell her she looks like Mrs. Possum and tell her that we can all see her wormy mustache. Dayum, get you some wax, girl. Or let the fucker grow and just be your Tom Selleck self. All I’m saying is this…make a decision, one way or the other.
Thanks so much for expanding my horizons. I actually got to work as a towel drier girl for a while, and that was a good day until lunch, when you had me change jobs and move to stand right in the middle of the car wash wearing a rain coat and six-foot-tall wings to act like a funny puppet for the kids in the cars, which was very scary and very cold, although I was quite good at it, you have to admit.
Well, Possum Face, I wish you and the rest of the people at Pegasus all the best. I hope I never, ever see you again, but I would like to use you as a reference if possible, so just let me know -- that would be super. Hey, I just meditated and decided that I wish you and the rest of the crazy bitches there much success in the future.
Best,
FlyMFPegasus222
-- C.A. MacConnell
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