Even less notice.

So, Friday no email responses from any of my current interests, but does bring a wink and a note from someone who obviously English is not his first language as he tells me - Kindly send me some of your recent pictures to sammie @ his match.com email. Tell me more about you and what are the qualities you need in you man.

Well, Sammie, I need me man to speak English, #1... at least in the written form. If his first language is not English, I at least need him to write somewhat in the English language and #2 I resent the fact that you think my pics are from some other time - possibly when I was not as fucking awesome as I am now? No idea. Plus, Sammie lives in TX, a place that is on my no-no list for ever living there (Austin is an exception). So, goodbye Sammie and I hope your next interest will learn you some Engrish.

In other news, I went out to goth night tonight. There was some sad dude who we nicknamed 'Zipperman' for the serious amount of zippers on his leather (or possibly pleather because I was NOT going to get that close) clothing. He left at one point to take some other acquaintances home, and we thought that was the end of him, but NO, he came back. There was also another guy who looked like a young, skinny goth version of Viggo Mortenson, who unfort. seemed rather keen on the young, skinny girl who's boyfriend was passed out (or I guess just asleep) on the couch in the club. Really, it's sad because I was looking damn fine and had awesome shoes on (which my feet currently hate me for, damn 3" heels). I was told by a friend to approach Viggo, make that Viggo boy my own, and tell him what was what, but I've done enough of that in my life and really want at least a mutual interest and not some pussy who needs the woman to take charge. Anyway, back to my awesomeness - I'd post a photo but I came home and found my damn camera out of batteries... so instead, imagine awesome slinky black dress with a flair at the bottom, high heels, and my awesome meanness as I enjoyed dancing and making fun of others (the other reason besides dancing to go to goth night). Too bad the place was full of taken men, pussies, and Zipperman (who I am more than glad did not approach me or ask for a number/email/etc.). So, my cats have decided to be my best friends and snuggle me in bed tonight, but it still doesn't make me any less needy for some reliable penis (not like I got that during marriage or anything), but a girl has gotta dream right?