Personal stories of life on the web

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You've been sending us your personal stories of "life" on the web, Internet, and we thought we'd share them here. Please add and submit your own. We want to hear it all! And check our blog for up to the minute submissions: http://www.inst-msgs.com/blog/

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From J****:

Hey Ann,

The thanksgiving episode was really great, I thought. The blood spatter seems a bit over the top, but I found the whole thing really funny. I think the fascinating thing about the show, and this episode in particular, is that it's a real post. If the episode was made up, people would quickly dismiss it, but knowing that these things are real allows you to get into the characters. No matter how ridiculous they might seem, they do exist. I also thought the Super Mario Bros. clip was great.

As for being a serial internet dater, I could write a thesis on that. I'll just summarize some of the girls I've "dated"...

One girl, I arranged to meet her at a bar to play scrabble. Scrabble and drinking make the perfect date, I've found. This date ended with us drunkenly making out and groping in the train station. Second date, we ended up in her garage, where her brother and their friends made fun of me for not liking Oasis (???), and I woke up to somebody having taken my shoes. We had to track down the most diehard of the Oasis fans to swap shoes. How can you not realize you're wearing someone else's shoes? Sex was unsatisfying, I never saw her again.

Another girl was obsessed with roller derby, which I hadn't yet learned was a bad sign. I met her friends, mostly mid-30's yuppies, trying to recapture their punk glory days. The highlight of the evening was walking out to the parking lot to say nice things about the plain grey sedan one of the yuppies had just bought. I took her out to a show one time, where she yelled in my ear that it was the craziest thing she'd ever seen. I just wanted to watch the show and ditch the girl, but her car was in the city, and she'd been drinking. I made her sleep on the couch and woke up to a note saying "I don't think things are working out, sorry."

I met a bartender who was overweight, and only met up so that she could punk me by not looking like her picture. She was the most vulgar girl I've dated, and the most damaged. I did ecstacy with her for the first time, snorting it with a rolled up $50 bill, because I found the concept hilarious. Most of my time with her I was wasted, and although the sex was good, any time spent together not wasted felt awkward. I dated her for an intense month. Then a year later, another intense month. She moved to Saskatchewan and went into school for dentistry. Last I talked to her, she told me to fuck a bag of glass.

Those are some highlights. I hope you enjoyed them.

[instmsgrs]

Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Thanks for this You, person. I mean, life was not this exciting for me when I was 15, or 25.

http://www.inst-msgs.com/blog/2009/12/10/-c-i-wear-too-much-mascara.html

Your Name: ZZZZZ
Your Email: XXXXXXX@gmail.com
Subject: Email from my friend on her 15th birthday
Message:

XXXX to XXXX
Subject:: Epiphany. Thank You for the card.
show details Nov 29 (9 days ago)

XXXX,
Today was my birthday (thank you for the card, i liked that it sung), but today was not a good day. I realized as I sat alone at lunch that this is not a happy time in my life. I wear to much mascara. I talk about others behind their backs(sorry about the rumor that you fucked XXXX i know now that he just fingered you, and sorry that you broke up) I have no love life. I know what you will say, that there is plenty of time for that. but, as i see it, there is no time. i dont want there to be time. i visited my grandmother earlier, i decided i would die before i got that old.

I know that in the past i have been a bad friend and lied to you about some relationships. i would like to clear some things up. I stole that bottle of vodka from your house, i am sorry. you might have known about park guy but i told you some lies. he was not boring. he was not a bad kisser. he was nice and sweet. he was also 19. i dont know what happened but i deleted his number. when ever he calls i ignore the calls. i wonder what power i have over him, sometimes i think i see him around but i am pretty sure i am just imagining it. i miss him. i wonder why i rejected him from my life sometimes... then i find the drugs in my parents rooms and i forget.

If you were wondering whatever happened to text boy, i met him. i met him and i fucked him and i loved him. and he left. he left me on the side of the road with a black eye, no, it wasnt from a tennis ball. it was from the punch of a drug addled male. i still answer his texts.

do you remember when you asked about my first kiss? i said i couldnt remember who it was. i do. i remember every second. he took me to the movies and he held me close. he let me sit in his lap and fall asleep on his shoulder. when he drove me home i made him stop the car, we didnt talk. he didnt want to use me. he wanted just to have a kiss. i kissed him. the things i have done before to feel loved had never fallen into the relm of kissing. he never wanted more. i love him and i still do. i sit up at night crying and asking where he went. where did he go? if you find him, please let me know. his eyes are gray. so gray.. i dont remember when he left. i want to know. i will stop wearing mascara for him. the lipstick will be gone as well.

well. i know that he is gone, if you come along a boy with gray eyes who is naive and not interested in just sex, please, send him my way. i will probably not remember this tomorrow.

yours ever so sorrily and truly,
XXXX.

[instmsgrs]

Thanks, "Jesse" for the interpretive history :)
http://www.inst-msgs.com/blog/2009/12/9/3-x-germany-likes-to-whore.html


Your Name: Jesse
Your Email: XXXX@gmail.com
Subject: Russia and Germany's Marriage

Message: (2:48:36 PM) Cheylene: i like how the germans go for 'fatherland' as opposed to 'motherland'
(2:49:42 PM) Jesse: i feel germany and russia are divorced and dont like talking to each other
(2:50:08 PM) Cheylene: they have a bit of a rocky past
(2:50:19 PM) Cheylene: wwII, cold war and all
(2:51:02 PM) Jesse: i feel the whole splitting of germany really hurt the marriage
(2:51:27 PM) Cheylene: i agree, and then the whole reunification thing and the fall of the iron curtain
(2:51:31 PM) Cheylene: big blow to russia
(2:51:40 PM) Jesse: germany was still living w/ the wife while dating the US and such
(2:52:06 PM) Cheylene: yea. i wonder if russia feels short changed
(2:52:37 PM) Jesse: then blew it off w/ russia and let democracy move on in and kicked out russia
(2:53:03 PM) Jesse: what a bitter divorce
(2:53:10 PM) Cheylene: rough stuff
(2:53:35 PM) Jesse: so can can we call the US the mistressland
(2:53:49 PM) Cheylene: i feel that's appropriate
(2:53:59 PM) Jesse: step motherland
(2:54:18 PM) Cheylene: nah, i don't feel that germany married the US
(2:54:37 PM) Cheylene: germany likes to whore out
(2:54:52 PM) Jesse: kind of just shacked up
(2:54:54 PM) Cheylene: russia's changed it
(2:55:04 PM) Cheylene: it's not looking for a commitment
(2:55:06 PM) Cheylene: just a good times
(2:55:36 PM) Jesse: russia was too oppressive and now germany broke out is wild and carefree
(2:56:00 PM) Cheylene: like a catholic school girl in her freshman year of college
(2:56:18 PM) Jesse: yep pretty much

[instmsgrs]

Here's a real ad a fan is about to submit. Give him credit for being honest:

Young, decent looking fellow searching for insane woman to string me along for a while and then cut me loose without adequate explanation or warning. If you can make me feel like it's my fault that'd be even better. I'm not too discriminating about looks, but it really helps if you're obviously out of my league, and everyone I know can see that this will not last.

You must be forward, and by that I mean you really have to make the first move, and then basically leave the rest up to me. I can handle things and sabotage my chances just fine from there. It also really helps if you're extremely opinionated, possibly to the point of sadism. Being smart is a definite plus, as is being techno-savvy, but neither is as important as you being completely crazy and having lots of serious issues. Issues are a definite must.

The more mixed messages you can send me, the better. I don't like having a sense of knowing what you want or when. If you can make me feel inadequate without trying, I urge you to do so. I love being made to feel inept and worthless. If you have boundary issues and like to talk about yourself a lot, you'd be a dream come true. One of my favorite things is when you open up to me about something deep and personal and I freeze up and act like an idiot because I don't know how to handle the situation. I also like to listen to music, watch classic films, and drive or walk around aimlessly.

After you let me go and I'm still hurt and confused, if you could immediately hook up with a meathead that obviously doesn't care about you and just wants to get in your pants, that'd be cool. We could stay friends and you could introduce me to him, and all three of us could hang out and I could feel like a complete jerk. It'd be great!

Anyway, to sum up, if you're a crazy chick who can treat me like all the other women I've ever dated, I'd love to hear from you. Looking forward to not ever getting laid and reinforcing my social phobias with you soon!

[instmsgrs]

Here's another one from J****.

This is his life as an online dater:

The day before new years eve, my 27th birthday. Always a difficult day to get people out, with many wanting to get home early to rest up. Given these facts, I tend to go a bit over the top.

This year, I throw a party for myself at a friend’s place. I get 4 bands to play, rent equipment, and buy a ton of beer. I also bring along a beautiful 20 year old, recently separated from my friend, who’s out of town. Her name is Hayley. Everything seems to be lined up nicely. The first 20 minutes or so, setting up, Hayley proceeds to tell me that over the past few weeks she’s been bombarded by male friends (re: ME) trying to put the moves on her, or professing their love for her. “Silly boys,” says she. Dammit. The odds of success here seem next to nil, though it is still fun to have a stunner on your arm for the night. I resign myself to having her play wingman for me.

Among the first people to arrive at the party, to my dismay, is a girl that I figured wouldn’t show up: crazy girl. Now, crazy girl is the type of crazy that you can see within the first 5 seconds of talking to her. She gets by in life because she’s a woman in her early 20’s, and not yet horribly unattractive. The problem is, I had walked her home a few nights earlier, playing the nice guy role, so as not to get involved with a psycho. Don’t sleep with her: check. Don’t let her know about my party: fail.

Upon entering, crazy girl immediately notices Hayley whispering to me, and it’s on. Hayley must die.

The next hour or so involves crazy girl trying to win me over to the dark side, while Hayley continues to lean in closer whispering “that girl is crazy! Don’t do that, ever!” I am drinking heavily, as I’m standing next to a fridge with 80 of my beers in it. At this point in the story, I black out, woken briefly by someone vomiting all over me and a wardrobe change. 100 people showed up, some great bands took over after the 4 that I invited, and people jammed until 4 am. Good times had by all.

The next day, crazy girl calls me to ask what happened to her nose. Apparently, she blacked out as well, and only remembers two things. She walked into the washroom to make out with a guy while he was peeing, but he got away (lucky fellow). Also, she remembers a bleeding nose from her face being smashed into something. We decide to share the hangover afternoon, we’ll watch some 30 Rock at my place. After getting shut down by Hayley the night before, and being on a 3-4 month dry spell, I feel like I’ll ditch the nice guy shtick and go for the easy mark.

Needless to say, everyone at the party that I talk to tells me “did you notice that really crazy girl?” We laugh and make fun of her. I don’t tell them that I’m now kinda sorta having sex with her. I hope none of these friends are spies for crazy girl.

Then, I find out what happened to her nose. At one point, crazy girl was chasing me, literally. She had my hand, and I was running away. Then, I guess trying to pull away from psycho, I pull a bit hard… and slam her face into a dryer. Her nose bleeds everywhere, and she freaks out. Clearly, she can never hear this story.

2:30 am last night, I get this text message from crazy girl:

“At Harrison’s… he filled me in on the party mishap. I’m still sober!”

Now she’s coming over today, and I fear for my life. 2 weeks until the poet visits, so I’m praying crazy girl doesn’t mess that up for me.