It’s kinda sad that all I had to do was open Match and start scrolling.
Today’s “Ah, man, I was rooting for you!” award goes to Tony, age 50.
Initial reaction:
Photos? ✔️
Location? ✔️
Complete bio? ✔️
Compatible? ✔️
My thumb was about to swipe Tony into the digital land of possibility when I read it.
The prompt:
“For me, a good day isn’t complete without …”
The answer:
“My dog and a hot bath.”
Now, perhaps he meant to type, “spending time with my dog — I also like to relax later on with a hot bath.”
Perhaps.
But all I can picture is a sturdy, six-foot gentleman surrounded by bubbles, sipping a glass of wine, and locking eyes with his faithful pup across the tub. In complete, candlelit silence.
Don’t you dare deny it — you pictured it too.
And somewhere in that sudsy, surreal moment, my finger found its way back to safety. Swipe left, my friends. Swipe left.
Because in the dating world, there’s clean … and then there’s too clean. 🛁🐾
Menopause & Malarkey just hit 500 views! That’s 500 shared laughs, sighs, and side-eyes from women who get it. Thank you for reading, sharing, and swiping along this wild ride with me. Here’s to the next 500 —and the next round of red flags, revelations, and ridiculousness.
Every once in a while, a dating profile comes along that makes you question everything you thought you knew about grammar, humanity, and personal hygiene.
Bless his disease-free heart
Enter Attackmewityrlov. Age 55. Gallery selfie: aisle three of what appears to be a Walmart. Username: a vowel-deprived cry for help.
The man’s profile opens with a flourish of exclamation points and… well, mostly exclamation points:
“I am a loyal clean man, never had a STD!!! I only need one Woman that’s clean and STD and drugs free!! Must be loyal!!”
Sir, blink twice if your keyboard is being held hostage.
Let’s unpack this, shall we?
🚩 1. The “Clean” Obsession
If the first thing you tell me is that you’ve “never had an STD,” I’m not impressed — I’m concerned that you think that’s the opening pitch. It’s like showing up to a job interview and proudly announcing, “I’ve never been arrested.”
When someone leads with “clean,” it’s not confidence — it’s a red flag disguised as a Clorox wipe.
🚩 2. The Grammar Crimes
The capitalization is chaotic. The punctuation is panicked. Somewhere, an English teacher is shaking her head and whispering, “Not like this.”
Gentlemen, three exclamation points do not make a personality. They make a migraine.
🚩 3. The Missing Context
Where’s your sense of humor? Your hobbies? Your story? “Must be loyal!!” tells me nothing about your character, but everything about your trust issues.
A dating bio should be a snapshot of you — not a commandment list for whoever swipes next.
💡 A Modest Proposal
Men, if you’re reading this: Start with why you’re here, not what you’re afraid of. Tell me about your favorite meal, your dog, or the last time you laughed until you cried. (Preferably not during an STD screening.)
We don’t need perfection. We need a glimpse of real.
🎬 Final Thoughts
Attackmewityrlov, wherever you are, I genuinely hope you find your loyal, clean, drug-free woman. But maybe also a friend who can proofread.
Until then, the rest of us will be over here — swiping past chaos, sipping coffee, and wondering how many exclamation points it takes to summon a relationship.
The Scariest Thing on the Internet Isn’t AI — It’s Dating After 50
They say Halloween is for horror stories — but trust me, nothing’s more terrifying than logging into a dating app after menopause. Forget vampires and ghosts; I’m out here facing pink robes, shirtless selfies, and enough red flags to start my own parade.
This is Menopause & Malarkey: 👻Halloween Edition🎃— where we dissect three truly haunting specimens from the digital dating graveyard. 🧟
Spoiler alert: the dogs were innocent; the men, not so much. 🐾
When you’ve been on the apps long enough, you start to see patterns — and not the good kind. The men, the lighting, the mysterious “recently separated” energy. So, for the sake of science (and the sisterhood), I began documenting the most alarming cases.
What follows are three prime suspects in the ongoing investigation I call Silence of the Swipes.
🧬 The Specimens
Specimen One: Bobbie — The Pink-Robe Phantom
They say you should never judge a book by its cover, but in this case, the cover was a pink bathrobe — and the book was a crime thriller.
Bobbie appeared one chilly Monday morning, smiling from the depths of what I can only describe as “dimly lit concern.” Pink robe. Little dog. One swipe shy of hearing, “It puts the lotion on its skin.”
I don’t know what Bobbie was going for — cozy retiree? Dateline extra? Maybe “retired villain with a Yorkie”? Whatever it was, I slept with the lights on that night.
Specimen Two: Benjamin — The Bathroom Flexer
Then there’s Benjamin — a rare hybrid of midlife crisis and misplaced confidence. His natural habitat? The bathroom mirror. His camouflage? Sunglasses. Indoors.
The man’s profile photo screamed protein shake and poor decisions. One picture — just one — all bicep, no context. I zoomed in hoping for clues: wedding ring tan, countertop clutter, maybe a hostage note in the background. Nothing. Just Benjamin, flexing at the mirror like it owed him money.
If there were ever a cautionary tale about self-love gone rogue, Benjamin is Exhibit A.
Specimen Three: Sal — The Sleeveless Suspect
And finally, we have Sal — a man whose entire profile radiated the energy of a police lineup. Sleeveless shirt, glare that said “these weren’t taken voluntarily,” and a backdrop that looked one fluorescent bulb short of an interrogation room.
His bio read, “I’m just a simple guy looking for a good woman.” Sir, that may be true, but based on this lighting, I’m also 80% sure you’re wanted in at least two states and a county fair.
Adding to the intrigue? A tiny Chihuahua named Rambo. Cute, yes — but I’m fairly certain that dog has seen things.
🕵️♀️ Case Closed
After careful analysis — and by “analysis,” I mean wine, screenshots, and several texts to friends that began with “you will not believe this” — I’ve reached a few conclusions.
First: there is no algorithm strong enough to filter out weird. Second: there should be a public-service announcement about profile lighting. And third: if the photo makes you feel like you’ve accidentally wandered into a true-crime reenactment, trust your gut. Swipe left, grab some chocolate, and never settle.
Because while the ghosts of Dating App Past may still rattle their chains, I’m here with sage, sarcasm, and two sweet dogs who know a villain when they see one.
Until next time, stay sharp, stay sassy, and remember — the dogs are innocent. The men? Still under investigation. 🕯️🐾
Filed under Menopause & Malarkey — Heather Kight: midlife mischief-maker, dog mom, and sworn enemy of shirtless selfies.
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