Phicklephilly – Tinder Moments

More crazy online dating profiles!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Phicklephilly – Tinder Moments

Here’s another batch of interesting characters I found in the online dating community!

 

Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Amazon Customer Review

“This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.”

I read this recently and nearly died laughing. I know this isn’t the usual phicklephilly fare, but it was just so glorious and brilliantly written I had to share.

Happy Friday!

Enjoy!

Customer Review

Veet Hair Removal Gel

5.0 out of 5 stars
A warning from across the pond…
By: A. Chappellon July 3, 2012

Format: Health and Beauty

After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus’s birthday as a bit of a treat.
I ordered it well in advance, and working in the North Sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews, and wrote them off as soft office types…oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen.
I didn’t have long to wait. At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn’t featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg. Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the drain with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen. By this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me.
The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn’t managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me. This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.
The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before. Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering…” Ooooh that feels good “.

Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn’t heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn’t the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn’t improve my status…So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self-respect…:)

 

The original can be seen here for validity: https://www.amazon.com/review/R2QP56S5P2DEGA

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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The Briddler

“What do you call a black man flying a plane?

“I don’t know.”

“A pilot! What are you, racist?”

If you’ve been reading this blog, you’ll know I spend a lot of time outside in the nightlife scene of Philadelphia. If you’ve been here for any period of time you realize the homeless situation here.

You’ll see it in Philadelphia, just as you’ll see it in Detroit and Los Angeles and D.C. That omnipresence can make it easy to perceive homelessness as a thing that just exists — a problem cities have that they all treat the same way.

But the way the city of Philadelphia approaches homelessness is different than the way it’s approached in Detroit and Los Angeles and D.C. The root commonality in fighting homelessness across U.S. cities is that they all get funding from HUD. It’s the way those funds are deployed that differs from city to city.

Here’s a glimpse at homelessness in Philadelphia, and how it’s being approached.

First, let’s put things into perspective. Of 1.6 million people living in the city of Philadelphia, 400,000 were found to be living below the poverty line in 2015. Compare that to the city of Los Angeles where, out of 3.9 million people living in that city,  approximately 873,600 are living in poverty.

Yet in Los Angeles, 21,338 homeless individuals were counted as not having shelter earlier this month. Philadelphia’s 2016 Point in Time count registered 705 unsheltered homeless individuals inside the city, according to Office of Supportive Housing Director Liz Hersh.

As of 2014, OSH tallied 3,644 beds across emergency, transitional and permanent housing facilities. Still, there are concerns that that number just isn’t enough.

“We don’t have enough,” said Misty Sparks, director of entry-level programs at nonprofit Bethesda Project. “I don’t think anyone should ever have to sleep outside, but if every homeless individual wanted to come into shelter on a given night, we would not have enough beds.

“I’m a firm believer that we always have 700 to probably 1,500 homeless in and outside of the city. In the winter the homeless count is much lower. In the summer it’s much higher.”

The homeless do get turned away when facilities are full — even youth.

It’s pretty sad and I am looking into some things I can do around the city to help solve this situation. The best one can do is to volunteer to help at one of the local shelters or for the publication One Step Away published by Resources for Human Development.

One Step Away is a newspaper that is written by homeless people and former homeless and contributing journalists. I may even write a piece for them.

But out of all of the homeless people I encounter on a daily basis, there is this one guy who always seems to pop up whenever I step out of a bar for a smoke. He’s sweet and articulate, and always has a joke for me. He normally does two or three and always has new material. As I said before, I don’t give money to the homeless people on the street. It doesn’t solve the problem. I’ll give food however, because food can solve an immediate need.

But this slight black man is different. He’s not panhandling like the rest of them. He’s making me think and making me laugh. So it’s not begging, I see it more as “street performance.”

There’s a difference. He does his bits, makes me laugh, I hand him a couple of bucks and he always tells me about the special at MacDonald’s that he’s going to spend his loot on.

I don’t even know his name. I really should ask him. Right now I refer to him as the Briddler. (the Black Riddler)

I saw The Briddler last weekend around Square 1682. He rolls up and opens with:  “What do you call a black man flying a plane?

“I don’t know.”

“A pilot! What are you, racist?”

Oh, and then he always smiles and sings a little tune: “doo doo do doo doo.” After each punchline.

“How do you know if Will Smith has been walking through the snow?”

“I don’t know. How?”

“Fresh prints!”  “doo doo do doo doo.”

“What did one testicle say to the other testicle?”

“What?””

Ya know, just between you and me, that guy’s a dick.”

So that’s a couple of his bits. They’re cute and funny. But the other day he approached my buddy Church and I and did a different kind of riddle.

“What goes through water but doesn’t get wet?”

We both thought for a minute but couldn’t come up with an answer between the two of us.

“Light.” doo doo do doo doo.

“Good one, dude.”

“What lies on water but doesn’t get wet?”

This time I had an answer. “Oil. Because that creates and emulsion.”

“Or a shadow… doo doo do doo doo.”

“You’re killing me today with the science riddles, dude.”

“What did Cinderella say when she got to the ball?”

“No clue.”

(He just starts gagging)

*That’s a fellatio joke for those of you that are a bit behind.

The Briddler is not a panhandler. He’s a street performer.

Apparently the owners of the popular nightclub, Rumor paid a years rent for him in an apartment. That’s incredibly generous, and will keep a roof over his head for a while.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

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Annabelle – Chapter 6 – Mia Ling: A Solution During Indecision

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

If you’ve been following phicklephilly, and reading the Annabelle series, you’ll realize that pretty Asian girl isn’t Annabelle, but this is Chapter 6 of Annabelle. You’ll soon see why.

I was sitting at the bar at Crow and the Pitcher having a drink when I got the text. It was Annabelle. She said that with everything going on with her birthday this week, would it be alright if we didn’t do the comedy club thing this week.

I felt the pain hit me. I turned to the one person who could help me in this moment.

The bartender.

Who happily, was female. I told her my plight. She said what Annabelle wrote wasn’t a no, it was just a delay. She may really have a lot going on this week. Her birthday was on Thursday and that’s when we were supposed to go out. The bartender told me to text back that it was fine, and that I have some other ideas, and what days she’s available. She gets back to me, and it looks like Sunday will work.

“But I already bought the tickets to see Natasha Leggero at Helium this Thursday.”

“I’ll go with you.” comes a voice to my right.

I look over and there sitting at the end of the bar is a lovely Asian girl. “Are you serious?”

“Forgive me for eavesdropping, but it sounds like whoever you were going to take, passed up a great opportunity.”

I turn to the amused bartender. “Get her another of whatever she’s drinking.”

I walk down and sit next to her at the end of the bar. I introduce myself.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Mia.”

We chat and I don’t tell her I really like this other girl, I just kind of play it off as not a big deal. But if she wants to go to the show with me, I’d be happy to take her. She’s into it and I get her number, and we discuss where and when we’ll meet to go to the show. I can’t believe my good fortune. I would obviously rather spend time with Annabelle, but like the song says, “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one your with.

She tells me she works at an art appraisal company. She is Chinese. She tells me her specialty is asian art in particular. She’s pretty. Fair skin, about 5’5” tall, dark brown hair and brown eyes. I like that she was forward about wanting to go to Helium. “I like to laugh, and I’ve seen her on Chelsea Lately.” she says.

After another drink, I have to leave to attend an event. I say goodbye and tell her I’ll text her the day of the show. I’m walking across town and check in with my friend Alice. (See: Alice – 2012 to Present – The Cute Recruiter) I wanted to get a second opinion from a young woman. I tell her what I’m up to and she agrees. She says, if there is a guy she likes, and she sees him on social media with another chick, it makes her want him more. This confirms that what I’m doing is right. I hope it doesn’t backfire on me.

The night of the date, Mia and I meet at El Rey before the show. We’re sipping our margaritas and laughing. She thinks I’m funny, and I feel like the warm up act before the headliner. We finish up and head over to Helium.

There actually are two comics that come on before Natasha. They’re both solid. Then she comes out and she’s really funny. Mia is laughing so much I hope they don’t make any jokes about Asian people.

After the show, Natasha comes out into the lobby and people are talking to her. I walk up and ask her if we can get a picture with her. She’s very sweet and agrees. She comments how cute Mia is during the pics being taken. I tell her thank you, and that I rescued her from human trafficking. Natasha cracks up and so does Mia. Everybody wins!

I post the pic to Facebook, and let it fly. I thank Natasha and Mia for a lovely evening. I walk Mia to her train, give her a smooch, and off she goes.

I pulled it off. I hope it works. Comedy show, seen. Arm candy, documented. Met the headliner and have the pictures to prove it.

I’m walking home, and I text Annabelle that when we were talking she mentioned that she likes seafood. (She’s pescatarian) I suggest we meet at Devon in Rittenhouse on Sunday at 6pm. She says that sounds great.

So there you have it. Everything is going well. I just hope we make it to Sunday with out any more cancellations. Fingers crossed.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.

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Devon – The Crazy Cat Lady – Part Two

“I am looking for a tall dark western European man to have a relationship with.”

A few months later I invited several people out to open mic night at the comedy club Helium over on Sansom street.

The only people who showed up were Michelle (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – Nice to Meet You)and Devon. I was fine with that. Me and two good-looking women at a club. We get a table and are having drinks. How it works on an open mic night at a comedy club is this: Five bucks cover to get in. The best amateur comics come out first. Also if they are there every week to do stand up they are higher in the rotation. If you are new you’ll go on last and many people leave by then because as the night goes on the comedians suck more. Dave Chappelle actually enjoys this. He likes to stay to the very end to watch as the amateurs slowly die on stage or freeze up or whatever. He sees their failure as funny. I on the other hand hate it after about an hour.

So after about an hour, Michelle was fed up and so was I. Also, Michelle doesn’t like sharing her time with me with other women. (Even though we’re broken up) She went to go smoke outside. I told her I’d join her. We agreed that the show was starting to suck, and we should get Devon and go somewhere else and get some food and drinks. We go back in and sit back at the table. I put it to Devon that we are fed up and we should all go somewhere else and hang and chat.

Now when I put out the invite on Facebook it was to many people. So it was a group event. Only two showed up. It wasn’t like I asked Devon out and then brought Michelle to tag along. But I guess that’s how Devon took it. All she had to do was get up, and leave with us and it would have been a great night. We saw some decent comedy. The tickets were only five dollars a piece and now we could move on.

But that was not to be. Devon insisted on staying. I told her it was only going downhill in regard to talent, and that she should leave with us and get some food.

Nope. She said she was staying and seemed pissed. I gave her one last chance and then we left. Devon decided she would rather be a martyr and be jealous, than go out and hang with some cool people who weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.

So Michelle and I went over to Smith & Wolensky’s at the Rittenhouse Hotel. (Now called Scarpetta. That’s where I would later reconnected with evil Sarika) We got some wine, and smoked cigarettes on the balcony. Good times. I walked Michelle home and that was it.

A few days later I get a text from Devon. “I guess we should talk.”

(I wait a bit)

“About what?” I text back.

“What happened the other night.”

“Nothing happened. The show sucked. We wanted to leave. We wanted you to come with us, and you insisted on staying.”

“I want my keys back.”

“Fine come pick them up.”

“Mail them to me.”

The next day I taped the keys to a piece of cardboard and put them in an envelope and took it down to the mail room where I worked. I told the guy it was swag for a client and he stamped it with postage. I didn’t pay for the envelope of the postage. Devon wasn’t worth it.

Three years later I was sitting in McGlinchey’s with Carol, (Carol – 2014 to 2016 – There’s No Fun in Dysfunction) when I get a text from an unknown number. It says something to the effect that this person felt we ended things on a sour note and wanted to reconnect with me. I had no idea who it was, it had been three years! I gently responded as to get them to reveal who they were, and I find out it’s Devon.  I’m not one to hold a grudge but apparently Devon is really good at that. But I guess when you have run out of friends you crawl back to anyone that will talk to you.

I agree to meet with her. I haven’t even thought of writing Phicklephilly yet, so i did it from the heart and not for the blog. (Like in most cases when it comes to head cases!)

We are at the bar at Square 1682. She’s the same old Devon, but three years older. Now in her forties, she has at last found a decent job and a better apartment and is doing well. She wants me to take her to events around the city and things involving the arts. But she makes it clear she isn’t interested in dating me. If she had gotten any better I would have considered it, but not really. I ask her what she is looking for and she responds with the following: “I am looking for a tall dark western European man to have a relationship with.”

Think of how juvenile that is. that sounds like a teenage girl’s dream. Devon hasn’t changed or evolved at all. She’s still stuck in the same place because she never tried to grow or change as a person. You can’t just cut people off for three years and expect them to just come back into your life like nothing’s happened. A lot can happen in three years. But apparently not much has changed for Devon.

I don’t really have any use for Devon now. Especially after a three-year gap. I don’t have anything in common with her except our mutual friend Marigold. So she tried to reconnect to me and even though she has decided after three years she is no longer angry at me, I have no reason to hang out with her. She just seems like another aging crazy chick.

I saw her once more last Christmas when Marigold came to visit with all three of her wild kids. Devon was actually pretty good with the children. Too bad she never got married or any of her own.

Well, she still has her cat.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.

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Spinner – 2001 to Present – The Broad Street Bullies

The funniest guy I know…

Before I start this one, I’m very proud to announce that I have reached  500 followers! That’s 500 more than when I started this journey 6 months ago. I want to thank each and every one of you for reading phicklephilly. Your comments and likes have been wonderful, and I try to respond  to all of you. I have so many more stories to tell and I hope that this blog evolves into what it ultimately should be. I’m documenting my past loves and my quest to find true and sustainable love here in Philadelphia.

But hopefully I begin to examine who I am and how I got here, and what made me into who I am today.

I’m glad you’re all on the journey with me, and it pushes me forward to continue and never give up!

Thank you one and all!

 

I have known Spinner for over fifteen years. He is the funniest guy I know. He has a brain that somehow can put together words, phrases and ideas faster than anyone I know.

He used to work for me back in 2002. He was hired as a bank teller at a branch I managed in Mt. Laurel, NJ. I started to notice how funny he was after a while. He and I developed a good rapport. One day Spinner just stopped coming to work. So our head teller fired him. I think he just hated working for the head teller who was an angry asshole. I liked Spinner, so I kept in touch with him.

We actually started hanging out. We’d go out to eat at the mall and girl watch together. He was really cool to hang out with because he had such a quick wit. He has the ability to freestyle comic bits at lightening speed.

I remember he came over to my house one time. He had a flyer that had information about an upcoming comedy show at Stockton State College. As I read it I saw that he was headlining and that it was a fundraiser for spina bifida. Then I saw that my name was on it as one of the comedians on the bill. I laughed and asked him what that was about. He simply told me that I was one of the funniest people he knew and that I would kill. I thanked him and told him there was a distinct difference between me and the other comics. I didn’t have an act!

Although I was terrified, I was still intrigued. I wrote some material and went out and did it. The thing with fear is, unfortunately you have to run toward it to overcome it, not away from it. That simple piece of advice given to me by an old friend, helped me overcome much of my lifelong anxiety disorder. Stand up is terrifying. Playing in a band is scary until you get through the first song and start rocking, then it’s awesome. But standing alone on a quiet stage with a spotlight in your face, and making people laugh is really hard.

So I did it. It was nerve-wracking, but also fun. The peals of laughter coming back from the audience from what you’re saying is similar to the cheers and applause you get playing rock. It’s just a little different high. I did well and somebody even shot a video. Spinner ended up transferring it to a VHS tape and gave me a copy. He said I was the best of all of the comics. I was so happy. But try to find something to play that tape on now!

I have since gone on to perform stand up in New York, and here at the Laff House in Philly. It’s all thanks to my buddy Spinner.

Sometimes we would go to the Tropicana in Atlantic City, and he would gamble. He likes roulette. I’m not a gambler, so I would just blow through twenty dollars and then drink and talk to women. Sometimes he would win a lot of money, but obviously, that doesn’t happen all of the time.

I moved to New York and didn’t see him as much anymore. But we always kept in touch. If I was around on a weekend to see my daughter, sometimes he’d hang out too.

But in the last year or two Spinner and I have reconnected and have been attending sporting events. I’m not a sports fan, but it’s really fun to go out with someone who is, and understands the game. Plus, as an added bonus the guy is a fucking riot.

Spinner is a huge baseball fan. He loves the Boston Red Sox. We’ve seen the Sox, the Phillies, and most recently a Flyers game. I have realized hanging out with Spinner why men love sports so much. It’s the competitive nature of the game. I love the exchange of power. If your team comes out and they trounce the other guys, it’s no fun to watch. But if we’re up and they take away our lead, it’s on! We have to fight to get it back to win. It’s very exciting to me.

I was never into hockey at all. It looked violent and moved too fast. Now, I love it. The talent of these athletes! Chasing and controlling that little puck all the while on ice skates! It’s such an intense and fast paced sport. Really good. I loved seeing that game and really want to see more. (The Flyers won after a sudden death tie. It was glorious!)

So hopefully this interesting and enduring friendship continues. I want to see more live sporting events! As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been better at maintaining relationships, but in this case Spinner, he has been the one that has kept us connected over the last few years and for that I am very grateful.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 8am EST.

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