Why Do Guys Send Dick Pics?

Gentlemen (and you really don’t deserve that title based on what I’m about to say), why are you still sending dick pics to women you meet online? And I mean women you meet online only, whom you haven’t met in real life and now will never have any chance of meeting IRL once you have sent your offensive selfie of something that you are so much more mesmerized and fascinated by than we will ever be?

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404: Relationship Not Found

This week we welcome a man’s perspective on dating courtesy of Josh Schneider (@Diji), with our first in an ongoing series of guest posts. 

We’re on a date. Not our first… we’ve had some fun so far. Things seem to be going well. We’re sitting over dinner, laughing over an objectively bad dad joke that I’ve just told. There’s a momentary pause in the conversation, and I decide to broach the subject.

“I really like this. I’d like to keep exploring this. What would you think of being exclusive?”

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The Hater App: What You Need to Know

Dating apps are like weeds – get rid of one, and three more pop up in its place.

I deleted Dine, the app that (falsely) promises more first dates and less pointless texting, because 1) it has so few users they kept sending me the same people, and 2) most of the guys who asked me out were 19-26 years old, even though I’d set my minimum age to 35. I’m legitimately tired of being treated like a CWILF (Childless Woman I’d Like to Fuck) and am looking for an actual relationship, not a romp in the playpen with a curious Baby-Man.

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Eyes and Ears Open, Legs Closed

Eyes and ears open, legs closed.

That was supposed to be my dating motto for 2017, but so far it’s been more legs open, eyes closed. (Not sure how helpful my ears are as I know now that nothing men say on a date – especially a first date – can be trusted. I need some kind of filtration system between my ears and my heart so when I hear what they say, I don’t believe it.)

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An Open Letter to My Latest Date, Part II

At least your apartment was clean; I’ll give you that. I’m not a fan of going back to guys’ apartments. I’d much rather bring a guy back to my place and be in my own environment (read: control freak) than risk the unknown (and likely visible pubes in the bathroom) in his.

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