OK, I'll pretend to be an all-American guy!

Another side-splitter. My stomach seriously hurts so much.

Hello,

OK, let the shagfest begin. For a short time only, I will turn off my personality and instead adopt the over confident, cheese spewing good ole U.S. stereotype just to get into your pants (you lucky thing). I shall also fake being at least 6'1" because I know how important that is to all you 5'1" girls out there. I shall rabidly crush all the things that make me interesting and agree to become settled, get married, have 2.1 kids, minivan and the whole shebang (yeeehaaa).

Just think of it...

- Sentimentality on demand (yes, I'll be the sensitive man by spontaneously shedding tears at the right moment in any movie of your choosing).

- Reveling in your lofty ambitions (I will sit agog when you describe your radical departure from the norm by spouting on about your dizzying, yet highly original desire to get ahead in marketing or start a family).

- Fawn and gush over whatever hairy turd factory you've decided to call a pet.

- Give you an excuse to get mad at me by going out with my male friends to a noisy sports bar, drinking piss weak beer whilst strutting about thinking I'm tough.

- Make you feel like you have a real man about the house by watching sport at every available moment and wearing an A's baseball cap (or whatever team you think is kick ass).

- Speak very loudly all the time punctuating various sentences with "YEAH", "HIGH FIVE", "YEHAAA", etc.

- Will promise not to startle you by having a conversation which might actually present a contrarian viewpoint (or otherwise show a depth of understanding of the world that comes from someone who's lived in other bits of it).

- Will instantly become everything a man should be as defined by Cosmopolitan magazine.

- Will endlessly shower you with platitudes that you've been conditioned to expect as being appropriate from the male gender.

- Develop a cute ass, always wear Levis, work on a six-pack, even if it means nailing coke cans to my stomach. I mean, let's face it everyone knows that these are what keeps a relationship lasting through the years of ups and downs. That thing about friendship, common interests, engaging conversation, mutual discovery, are just old wive's tales (huh?).

- Will present myself to you radiating such a cloud of self-confidence that you'll think I'll be able to handle anything (even you), but in reality will fall apart when the shit really hits the fan (like when my pickup cannot hold enough low class crap to out-crap my buddy's pickup also full of low class crap or when they've run out of tofu burgers at Trader Joe's).

- Will gladly plea guilty to a domestic violence charge when I am accused of ignoring your feelings or not giving you enough compliments (you think I'm kidding, check out the 'Emotional Withholding' section here).

Since posting the above, I have also decided to offer custom gum chewing. This will feature extra mandible action to guarantee that 20 point IQ drop look. You think I'm looking too intelligent (uh oh, geek alert), don't worry, in an instant I can be chewin' looking as thick as the rest of 'em.

'Touch O'th'Working Class'. Realizing that alcoholics and other 'piss-my-wage-up-against-the-wall-on-a-Friday-night' types seem to have no trouble pulling American tail, I am including the 'Touch O'th'Working Class' feature in my personality repertoire. I too will adopt the persona of an Nth generation Irish/Italian/Polish/etc-American cultural peasant stock stereotype. These additions will be instantly recognizable as I increase my televised sports intake, become rampantly parochial spewing resentment towards anything or anyone that dare introduce anything new in my life. In addition, I shall get massively insecure having to self-aggrandize and demean others at every available opportunity.

Given that the above might not be to every upstanding American girls' taste, now on offer are two further personality options...

- Glossy corporate twat! Who cares if he's a sociopath, he earns a shitload! The ideal partner for every social climber! Want to get ahead in that catty backstabbing way that other high society women do? Feel like you're slipping behind in the race to be the most pampered useless extension of your man? Not any more! Now that you're with your corporate man, you can be as kept as the rest of them. Attend the best parties where all you have to do is sport a nice dress and expensive jewels. Dispense with conversational items that don't relate to shopping or 'who's in and who's out'. Be free to disparage any woman whose partner who has made his money in one of those 'low class' lines of work (which actually involves 'working'). Spend your time prancing about managing your charitable foundation with the time and money made possible by your high earning partner. Who gives a shit how many people he's sent to the poor house or otherwise subjugated already!

- Flaky mocha-no-fat-soy-latte-tofu-eating-pseudo artiste prick! As a looser, I will disguise my inability to make headway in life as the tribulations of the struggling artist. I'll prattle on about Kafka and Ginsberg like they were my gay lovers (but not too gay of course for after all I am trying to get into your pants)! I shall immediately grow a goatee, long straggly black hair, develop a waif-like appearance and add extra angst to every conversational snippet. I shall send of for the 'Perfect that Gay Sounding Voice' practice tapes, tho I can become your new thenthative man (hint, I'm lisping).

- Latino Sleeze-Boy! A variation of the "Touch O'th'Working Class" personality targeted for the discerning Latina. My car will instantly turn into an extra cheap piece of shit that I could have easily replaced with a Ferrari had I not spent all my money adding tacky modifications to it. Tinted window, extra large spoiler, wide tires and a racing exhaust included! Of course no 'I bet this twat ahead of me is a Chicano', image would be complete without the trunk busting speakers and metal reclining naked mud flap chick. Of course, once out of the car, I'll strut about exuding extra machismo because as a Latino it's part of our (fragile) cultural identity even more so than with American men (if you can believe that). Other features include surgically attached backward facing baseball cap.

- Inverted hair main! No longer being able to grow here on the top of my head, I will shave it off and instead grow the most ridiculous goatee you've ever seen. This way, I can still convince myself, if not the world, that I'm not really suffering male pattern baldness. Goatees not your thing? No problem! I'll shave it off for the highly original Vin Diesel look which is just such a rarity nowadays.

I eagerly await the chance to remove your underwear, er, I mean listen to every word you say. Oh, after the amount of effort I've put into this, you can at least send a photo (because I'm supposed to be shallow, remember?).

P.S. If anyone knows of any creative writing jobs, please send them my way.

Couldn't. Stop. Laughing.

Obviously, the procrastinating situation is dire when I return to perusing Craigslist instead of writing my papers. This one was way too priceless not to share, however.

I sit around in my underwear - 36

You wanted romance, didn't you? I got romance up the wazzoo. As the B. Boys say, it's always great to get back in the States, back to the cutest girls in the world. And I should know! I was in Canada last week. DOGS!!! You want to know who let the dogs out? Some Canadian guy did! Listen to me - if you're going north anytime soon, carry some mace! X-Strength. Woof, woof! Arf!

But anyway, what I'm looking for is some of those smokin hot chill American girls. Bring it on! I say. A Badass like me isn't happy unless he's taking it to Partytown (NOT the one in Canada). Whatever. They call me Buckshot. I've never liked that name but hey if you've got an ass that can stop a freighttrain (not because it's as big as a freigttrain, but because it's smokin hot) then fire a bomb over here and LET'S BUST A MOVE!!!

My stomach hurts, it was just too much for me.

Okay. So this whole thing is progressing a lot more slowly than planned. Scarlett, even though she's promised me she'll write, hasn't, and I have more reading than I know what to do with.

But, I just had to post this. Before I do, however, some background. Out of all the many many pathetic responses I received, this one actually had a decent photo. So I emailed back - yes, I am that shallow. How else are you going to weed out people? To make a long story short, he basically was in town just for the weekend and just "wanted to get a drink." Bleh. So not interested, especially since I was going to have to drive all the way out to The Valley (said with horror, of course).

So I said that oops! I was going to be in Vegas for the weekend and well, just never wrote back when I "returned." Easy as pie. Too bad guys are like totally uber-dense.

I am off to work right now, taking a couple of rides out this afternoon and at sunset, you should book a ride.....anyhow, i figured this weekend would be a great time for us to grab that drink we talked about - im intown for afew days again....and have a place on the beach!

The rides he's talking about are horseback rides in some LA canyon. And if that email's not all sorts of sketch, I don't know what is. I also wish he knew how to properly use his space bar and how to capitalise letters.

By the way, if someone else is bored and has lots of time on her hands, and wants to help out with making fun of online personals.. do drop an email. It'd be a shame to let our sheer laziness stop such a brilliant idea.