Okay, so Christmas day, I lost my mind.
It started innocently enough. I listened by phone to my son opening up his Christmas gifts. Cleaned the house a little, then......
I went on Craigslist to post for a "country" vet for the monkeys. After listing that posting, I checked out the free section, the furniture section, then....
I went and checked out the missed connections, and cruised over to check out the rants and raves, then....
I checked out the personal ads.
Well, I was in a
mood, apparently and then.....
I posted this...
What I did Christmas Eve - 40 (north of denver somewhere)
I am laughing as I write this post. But this is allllll me.
Last night, I watched Dances with Wolves, drank Mexican hot chocolate and ate brie on Triscuits.
What my dream is: To win the lottery, that $600 million would have been great! I want to buy a huge piece of land, fence it, build my house and live happily ever after.
About me: I don't own a microwave nor a television. That just means I can cook and read.
Political affiliations: I wish common sense would rule. *sigh*
Religion: Higher power? Oh, I do hope so.
Humour? You, betcha!
More about me: I am tall for a girl/woman/chick. 5'10" or thereabouts. I like heels, I like to dress up. I want to ride horses and find some ghost towns to explore. But not at the same time.
Blonde, below shoulder length hair. Blue eyes, that have recently been introduced to the concept of contacts. Woohoo! Read that as over the age of forty. On the plus side, I don't look my age( Helloo, I look younger!) I know this because I am told this. Yay! Me!
Okay the stuff you want to know. Weight. Five years ago I weighed 125lbs. No, I wasn't sick.
Now, I hate my ass and thighs. But, no pun intended, I am back to exercising and have sworn off the fast food.
Boobs. Yes, I have two. One placed on the left and one on the right. I can cover each one with a hand with no overflow. But I have long hands, not alien hands but long. So less than a C, and more than an A.
Toes. I have ten. Ten long toes. My second toe is longer than my big toe.
You still there?
Oh, yes. Sex. Sex is great with the right man. I do not jump into bed right away. I like the wooing. Yes, I typed wooing.
My baggage. None. What I have is secured in a vault below an undisclosed mountain location.
What I need in a man. Need not want.
You must be male, from birth.
You must be taller than me. You have no idea how difficult that is.
You must act like a man. I just can't do wishy washy. That doesn't mean you can't be a nice guy. It means be a man. Acting like an occasional asshole is being a man. Acting like a gentleman around all women, is being a man.
You are passionate about something in your life. (please don't let it be Star Wars)
You are not a serial killer, rapist, animal abuser, or nose picker.
You will not tell me of your bathroom habits, this is information I do not need to know.
You will kill a spider, on demand.
Well, I will leave this disjointed post for now. If you choose to correspond, type Spider Killer somewhere in the heading.And there you have it. Chew on that for a bit. I will post the replies, and there are a ton. And tell you of the posting drama that happened. Oh, and I suppose you will want to know how many sent pics of their penises. I will reveal all, except for the penis pics.
