This day in age, finding your soul-mate can be a daunting challenge.
While our parents might have met at at a disco, and their parents at a sock-hop, where are we supposed to meet?
Lovejones.com, one of our sister-companies, points out that one in five relationships begins online.
That's fine if you've got time to sift through dozens of embelished profiles and out-of-date photos, but what about us movers-and-shakers?
That's why Lovejones has begun hosting speed-dating forums in 13 major U.S. cities.
I myself am an attractive, single woman in the prime of her life.
Why not go try this for real?
The big question is, can I land a whale at a gig like this?
I'm talking about a seven- or eight-figure income.
A cute studio executive with a house in the Hills would be nice.
Maybe I'll run into a famous actor, like Jake Gyllenhaal, doing undercover research on a role. Who knows?
I'm going to wear my shortest skirt and roll the dice.
I'll report back later, ladies.
Sometimes an eagle just needs to spread his wings and fly.
After uncharacteristically spending a couple years in the same town, I'm starting to get a little stir-crazy.
I was thinking of moving on when I realized that I just need some new female attention.
So I called the girls I'd been seeing steadily and let them down easy, or, at least, their voicemail.
By burning my bridges, I guarenteed I'd properly motivate myself to get some new trim.
Next I found the perfect venue to poach my prey- a new speed-dating bizarre hosted by the Post's sister-company, Lovejones.com.
In such a setting, I'll be sure to take home a hottie, as well as rack up a dozen leads.
Maybe I'll try to take home a couple of them at the same time, just for the challenge.
Nothing is impossible for the Silver Tongue!
Don't worry, I'll let you know how it goes.
Look out, L.A.-
Jim Stanton is back on the prowl!
|| Speed-dating was a total FAIL.
I went looking for a rich executive or maybe an edgy musician.
What I got was a bunch of broke-ass wannabes trying to look successful.
And, of course, the biggest dork there started stalking me.
I tried to politely say "no," but he wouldn't take the hint.
He seemed to think he was hot shit just because he's a local newspaper reporter.
I'm not impressed by some idiot with a byline and a Corolla.
I've shot down movie stars before!
Did he really think he could mesmerize me with his bullshit stories and Axe body spray?
I had to scream at the guy to leave me alone.
By the time I got home, he'd left me six voicemail messages.
Apparently he got my number from the Lovejones host.
Great. Do I have to change my number?
So, to sum up, speed-dating is like bottom-feeding on steroids.
Ladies, you'd be better off with Netflix and a vibrator.
What the fuck are these bitches' problems?
I could have had any of those desperate hoochies, but I took pity on one homely-looking girl in a short shirt.
After making it clear that I was willing to lower my standards for the night, this skank had the nerve to act like she wasn't interested.
I'm not buying it, Little Miss T.J. Maxx.
The ladies LOVE me.
After all, I'm a smooth-talking entreprenuer.
I've had millionaires throw themselves at me and, upon being shot down, try to marry their daughters off to me.
I've put together entire harems on a whim before.
I can talk anyone into anything!
I've had followers, dammit!
No whore with a ponytail and a perfect ass is going to phase me.
You're beneath me, Sugar-tits!
You'll never get an offer like that again.