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Forget music and join a dating service

The regular way (by running into them during the course of my life) of meeting chicks wasn’t working, so I decided to sign up for one of those dating sites. I chose one called and filled out their questionnaire. It was just a bunch of stupid questions about my feelings and if I wanted to meet someone who “liked to laugh” or “enjoyed helping others.”

Then it asked me about my hobbies. There were things like hiking and even archery, but nothing about turning trees into slingshots or bathing naked in fountains. There was a question about collecting, but it asked about stamps and coins and other dull junk. Good thing they allowed me space to fill out my own wants and needs. Here’s what I put:

Hey Chicks! Car here! I’m a fun-loving guy who likes to live on the wild side. I enjoy bathing naked in fountains, eating my mother’s home cooked bean and Kool-Aid casserole and, of course, my cow fetus collections. If at all possible, I’d like someone who also collects cow fetuses, but simply an open mind to the joys of jarred unborn bovines would do the trick.

After uploading my picture (I chose one of me trying on a hat made of Velveeta), I looked through all my matches. There were only three. One was a woman named Sandi, who enjoyed competitive eating and being buried alive. The second was a young woman named Spike (the only woman with a picture), who enjoyed death metal and afternoon tea. And the last was an elderly woman named Undisclosed, who liked base jumping and younger men.

What do you choose to do now?