After about two weeks of pitching myself in the trenches Gig Economy Dating, I find myself a silhouette against the bright lights of bombs going off across the horizon, face unseen under a thick layer of blood, mud and- yes- semen, only my bright eyes are visible. Those eyes may as well be circular holes cut into my forehead to let the lighthouse pulse under the mess to shine through. There’s no life there. There’s barely any acknowledgement of life there. These eyes are no longer windows to any soul, they’re merely roughly carved pits reaching down into the back of my skull.
It’s been rough, and I’m 90% sure that I’m likely to live out the rest my life voluntarily celibate. Is there a Volcel subreddit? I might have to start one, full of frustrated and exasperated men and women who haven’t the slightest idea what is expected of them in zero hour sexual politics, and who are desperately questioning whether the options out there are worth this senseless debasing of their self. And, yeah, we’ll probably be responsible for a few mass shootings, but that’s just because a lot of the members of our community are likely to be American, and it’s part of their culture. Don’t judge.
Yet, before I present more examples of the type of people I’m expected to perform digital tricks for in order to maybe have them send me a grainy photo of their boobs that I can then post on Reddit to guarantee a dozen up votes, a rare opportunity presented itself. Bumble has long taunted me by skipping circles around me in the playground, interrupting my daydreams of Jet from Gladiators and singing in a whiny little voice that “I know someone who liiiiiiiikes you!” but refusing to tell me unless I promise to give it a couple of Flumps. Translation- Bumble tells me that there’s a bevvy of lovely ladies forming a queue to get their greasy hands all over my ginger body, they’ve seen my half blue face, thought ‘God damnit, yes!’ and swiped right. However, I can only check out the only ladies on Bumble with their head screwed on if I pay for a ‘Bumble Boost’ subscription. A subscription that is, to put it lightly, fucking extortionate.
Bumble Boost’s pricing plays a strange, somewhat cruel game. The best value would obviously be a lifetime subscription, where you would remain Boosted until you die, either from complications relating to phalloplasty or, let’s face it, COVID-19. A lifetime subscription is about the same cost as around 15 weeks or possibly six months of subscription bought through other means. Imagine if Netflix offered you a lifetime of Tiger King and dreadful 90s nostalgia panders?? You would sweep that motherfucker up! But… with a dating app, so spend that much money on the assumption that it will take you so long to find love/fanny is such an admission of defeat. You assume that you’ll still be a horrible lonely prick after six months?? It’s going to take you longer than even fifteen weeks to find Mrs Prick?? No, you’re a fucking catch. Just buy a week. Then maybe a week after that. OK, one more week [REPEAT UNTIL DEATH].
However, they offer a two week free trial, so let’s jump on that. Fuck, please, Alex, don’t forget to cancel it…
OK, so Bumble says I’ve got six fillies queuing up to ride Space Mountain. Then I accidentally deleted one. No worries. Let’s look at the other five:
First there’s ‘Noncy’. Which is, yeah, close to her real name, but it made me laugh.
Pretty similar to me. I’m an ‘active’ exerciser in the sense that I have close to full use of my legs so I often have to walk places in order to get there. And I’m a ‘social’ drinker in the sense that I never drink and I’m never social. And- uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurgh!- I hate the term ‘liberal’. ‘Liberal’ is merely understanding the impacts bombs have as you drop them on foreign countries; ‘liberal’ means believing that hypercapitalism is obviously the only feasible mode of living, but, like, think that there should be more black superhero movies; ‘liberal’ means you avoid tax but pay £5 a week to Oxfam, sop believe you’re ethically covered; ‘liberal’ is Joe Biden fisting an intern then seriously questioning whether the clothes she wore might render her in someway culpable. However, I realise that Bumble only give you two other options- ‘conservative’ and- oh my God, I’m going to vomit- ‘apolitical‘. So, fine, Noncy, you’re a liberal, let’s move one. How else does she describer herself?
Nothing. Noncy doesn’t care if you like her personality. She just wants to know if you think she has a honky-tonk badonkadonk. You don’t care about my personality, I certainly don’t care about yours. Let’s exchange fluids. Jesus, these profiles really depress me. And whats more:
…the fuck is Shipley?? No thanks, Noncy. Next!
‘DP’ (she has a two letter name, I just gave her another one) seems a lot more promising:
OK, first the pros:
- She’s a doctor. This means that she likely has quite a bit of money and, most importantly, it presents the ideal opportunity for that first introduction to sex. I would simply say “Hey doctor, can you check out a pain I’ve been feeling right here?”. I would then present her with my penis. Do you see? Pretty foolproof.
- ‘Freestyle dancing’ suggests an interest in mild altering narcotics. I’m definitely a fan.
- She reads and writes. That’s good. I do half of those things (I’m not going to waste time reading this shit)
- She’s 36, which is actually my shoot age.
However, there are also cons:
- She is so proud of being an atheist that she puts it in her freaking bio. I am very wary of people so quick to identify as ‘atheist’. Like, big whoop. Does she know that wrestling isn’t real? Why not put that in your bio. What’s your stance on unicorns?
- A ‘Yorkshire lass’. I don’t believe any further comment is required. And what the fuck is ‘Argentine Tango’??
- She’s thirty six years old?! That’s, like, disgustingly old. Yeah, it’s my age, but you don’t date people your own age, that’s just perverse! I’m not sure I’m into this kinky MILF thing that she’s obviously into.
Sigh, more pros than cons I suppose, I’ll swipe right. Even though:
Awwwwww man! I’ve always thought that all women were repelled by me, but it turns out that it’s only women in the Greater Manchester area! Ah well, there’s good public transport links. Next!
‘Logger’ (it kind of rhymes with her name and it made me laugh, alright?) has a lot of stuff going on:
A sign language interpreter who obviously hates her kids? Alright, I’m convinced. Swipe right, even though, yes, again:
OK, one last one. Yes, I know I said there was five, but the fifth one… the fifth one perhaps deserves her own part. Stay tuned, hit subscribe, sign up to my nonexistent Patreon etc. We finally have ‘Hurley’, who… wow… Where to start with Hurley?
There is so little of this bio that I truly understand. So much so that when Hurley describes herself as a ‘Quirky an daft student’ I’m not entirely sure if that’s a typo or, like, some bizarre code that I’m not privy to. Like, what do the two asterisks mean when she says she’s looking for ‘intelligent lockdown conversations**’?? Do they donate that, actually, she’s looking for the dumbest conversations imaginable? Do they suggest that she’s not adhering to lockdown as much as other people might be?? Do the two asterisks represent something sexual??? Are they, like, two tiddies? Two pert testicles???? What’s going on here?????
‘For post virus dating view to LTR?’. OK, this one’s on me. Literally until writing this sentence I had no idea what ‘LTR’ meant. As an immigration advisor, I only see ‘LTR’ as ‘Leave to Remain’, so it looked like Hurley was suggesting we date until she has leave to stay in the country. Now I see it obviously means ‘Long Term Relationship. OK, Hurley, you win this round, maybe I’m the weird one. You might want to invest in a comma or two. (Yes!! Point out flaws in her grammar!! The power balance is restored!! I’m the smart one!!!).
OK, I think I can unpick this. She’s into her animal rights fair enough, and she’s into her politics. Then I think that green shoot represents the Green Party, which actually suggests she’s not into politics, per se, she’s more into supporting a particular team in the race. I’m suggesting that her enthusiasm and knowledge of wider political theory is less impassioned. Then… the face in love… So… she really likes politics/the Green Party…? Then there’s a forward slash before she mentions her tattoos and piercings. No, wait, there’s a period after the green shoot, suggesting that the emoji in love in fact belongs to the sentence about her tattoos and piercings. But… the slash…? Is she saying that she’s either in love or has tattoo and piercings? Without leaving much time to ponder the philosophy of this statement, Hurley then tells us specifically all the people she won’t date.
No hunters, fair enough, but I imagine that in 2020 most hunters, rather than being on Bumble, have their relationships arranged by their parents depending on what part of Eastern Europe their family is looking to extend their dominion over. Sure, you could be the hunter’s rough and ready underclass girl on the side, but as I understand it this honour is usually bestowed only to stable girls working the very hunts that the hunters hunt at. Next, she states her marked opposition to NWA by making it clear that she absolutely does not want to fuck the police. No butchers, which seems to me to disregard far bigger systematic issues pertaining to meat production in order to shit on the poor working man on the bottom of the pile. Then she adds parents to the list?? Now, let’s judge this on the same level as the listed aversions alongside it- hunters, polis, butchers, these are all professions that she is obviously disgusted by through reasons we can surmise link back to her political beliefs. So, based on how the sentence is constructed, I can’t help but feel that she’s ethically against children! Again, so many questions! Does, she, like Andrea Dworkin, believe that all sex is rape, penetration by its very nature dooms women to inferiority and submission, and children merely the leaden responsibilities that the woman ends up with??
Anyway, I’m not six foot two. In fact, I’m very open on my profile that I’m in fact far shorter, so you wonder how closely Hurley reads the profiles of the men she apparently wants to date.
Then she states definitively that she doesn’t want any ‘Yam yams/Black Country**’. What are ‘Yam Yams’?
Yeah, she translates it herself. She hates people from the Black Country so much that she actually states twice how not welcome they are, less a cheeky chancer from Stourbridge tries to slide into her DMs. So this is allowed? Bumble is a platform where people can quite openly express their bigotry towards a certain group of people. Can my bio just read ‘No Wops/Italians’? But again, do the two asterisks suggest some sort of irony?? This woman is fucking incredible!
Do I swipe right? Absolutely not. Did you not read that thing against sexting and cam strips? That’s kind of my deal.
As I have been finding out, that is the thing people will find most objectionable about Hurley…
That’s an amazing segue into tomorrow’s post, by the way, where I’ll still be looking at some of the options available, because part 6 barely touched the motherfuckin’ surface of the insanity I uncovered. Christ, this is a freaking content volcano isn’t it? Oh, and I’m currently awaiting two people to make the first move, and I’m still in conversation with a third (who I will detail once the ‘relationship’ ends in hideous and cringeworthy fashion any moment now).
Just… waiting for them to get back to me… See that one with the blue circle? That means I’ve already given her an extra 24 hours. Still, nothing. Why won’t you talk to me? You’ve already said you liked me! What is wrong with me??
By the way, this is how I describe myself: