Brought to you by Menopause & Malarkey — where the flags are many and the patience is limited.
Ladies… I present to you a man who is:
“Boss at Self-Employed” (Translation: The boss, the employee, the HR department, and also currently on an unpaid lunch break… indefinitely.)
80 miles away but behaving like we’re all just out here ready to road-trip for romance like it’s 1995.
And — be still my heart — his entire music section is Keith Sweat. Not a sprinkle. Not a vibe. Not a nostalgic “one song on a playlist.” No, ma’am. Keith. Sweat. Or. Bust. This man is out here preparing to beg somebody through a cassette deck.
But wait… the photos.
Ohhh, the photos.
We have:
• The Glamour Cowboy: A wide-brimmed hat, aviators, and a shirt so bright it’s gotta wear shades. He’s giving “Line dancing at noon, sermon at three, vibes by Keith Sweat at five.”
• The Close-Up That Didn’t Need to Be a Close-Up: Half a forehead. Part of a visor. A sprinkle of existential dread. Thank you for this offering.
• The Truck Cab Philosophical Hour: “Cool drama free cool as a fan” (Sir… you wrote “cool” twice. And for that reason alone, I have questions.)
And yet — YET — the best part?
He proudly lists Beauty as an interest.
BEAUTY. Dude, you are Keith-Sweat-ing in a Ford F-150 with an Instagram filter from 2013.
—
Verdict:
🚩🚩🚩MULTIPACK RED FLAGS. We’re talking Costco-level quantities.
Would I swipe right? No.
Would I make a meme out of him? Already did.
Some men come with careers, ambition, and financial stability. Others come with Keith Sweat, a cowboy hat, and a mysterious lack of tax documents. Choose wisely. 😔🔥
A Rare Moment of Applause in the Dating-App Wilderness
Every now and then, in the endless scroll of shirtless gym bros, filtered-to-oblivion selfies, and men who lead with their Halloween alter ego like it’s a personality trait…
A hero appears.
Today, that man is Rob, 55.
He did something almost no one on Facebook Dating remembers how to do anymore: He crafted a profile with structure. With restraint. With logic.
Let’s break down the magic:
✅ Photo #1: A normal, friendly, fully clothed human man
Good lighting. Relaxed expression. No sunglasses indoors. No nostril selfie. A rare and delightful start.
✅ Real-life pics first, costume pic last
This is the hallmark of a gentleman who understands:
> “My Captain Jack Sparrow moment is a bonus, not a warning.”
The pirate photo wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t his opener. It was the dessert at the end of the menu — optional, sweet, and mess-free.
✅ A bio that doesn’t read like an obituary
Simple, straightforward, not dripping with desperation or “I’m just a simple man looking for a simple girl.” Just enough personality to show he’s real. Not enough to make you run.
⭐ The M&M Verdict
I swiped right. Not because I’m picking out a dress. Not because expectations are sky-high. But because sometimes you have to acknowledge when someone actually did the homework.
Rob, sir, wherever you are… Menopause & Malarkey salutes you. 🫡 Not for perfection. Not even for chemistry. But for remembering the golden rule of online dating:
> “Lead with the man. Save the pirate for last.” 🦜
…then presenting me with a lineup that looks like a casting couch for:
The Latest James Bond Sequel
The Brawny Paper Towel Guy
The “Intimately Beckham” Cologne Ads
Let’s analyze this Bait & Switch.
Age 50–58 👨🏻🦱
Looks like he makes $300K a year building custom log cabins with nothing but a hatchet and a heart of gold. REALITY CHECK: My matches are men who wear Viking masks and brag about being STD-free.
Age 59–67 👱🏻♂️
Sir looks like he whispers in French, sings like Josh Turner, and restores vintage motorcycles on weekends. REALITY CHECK: The actual 59–67 demographic on Facebook Dating posts selfies featuring bathroom sinks, upshots of nostrils, and pillows as backdrops.
Age 68–73 🧓🏻
This man looks like early-retirement perfection: resides in his mountainside cabin beside a lake, tours wineries around the world, and doles affection on his seven grandchildren, who lovingly call him “Pop-Pop.” REALITY CHECK: Tell me why the REAL 68–73s message me “Your smile is my new favorite view” at before 5am, coffee, or a simple, “Hello.”
Age 73–85 👴🏻
He looks like he reads novels on his sunlit balcony, knows how to dance the tango, and makes 80 look like the new 50. REALITY CHECK: The only 70-somethings I get wear shirts that are sleeveless, have smiles that are toothless, and use photos that are from 1985. (And they definitely don’t look like Sam Elliott or Sean Connery.)
🌟 CONCLUSION
These men are AI-generated delusions meant to lure us into yet another dating site. They do not exist. They have never existed. They are the enigmas known as:
Most men I know are great with geography and have an innate instinct for getting un-lost. They can sniff the direction of a highway exit like bloodhounds. They can find a shortcut through three cornfields and two gravel roads without a single wrong turn. My late husband, Steve, proudly reigned as “King of the Backroads.”
But online dating geography reminds me of how my dad used to pack the trunk for long trips. “It’ll fit in there if youstack the luggage like this.”
These guys genuinely believe: “If I angle this map in my mind just right… geography will bend to my will.”
No, it will not. Geography is not Tetris. Distance isn’t shortened simply because you say so.
Just … stop.
Directions Aren’t Suggestions
I received a message this week from a gentleman we’ll call King George.
King George seemed perfectly pleasant at first. Location? King George, Virginia. Message? Polite. Warm. Normal enough to lower my swipe-defense shield. Asked what I like most about living in Georgia.
So I responded with equal kindness: “You seem nice, but the distance is too far.”
A perfectly reasonable, grown-woman boundary, right?
Apparently not.
This man — this adult human with a functioning smartphone and Google Maps baked into it — replies with:
“Well, King George is closer to Pennsylvania.”
Sir.
SIR. 🤦♀️
What part of “I live in GEORGIA” was unclear? What math, what map, what alternate reality was consulted for this mental malarkey?
This is not “new math.” This is New Geography, where states migrate, distances don’t exist, and all roads magically lead to your inbox.
Let’s illustrate the logic here:
Heather: “You’re too far.”
King George: “BUT IF YOU SQUINT AND TILT THE MAP—”
Geography: throws hands up and shouts, “I got nothin’.”
Listen, I admire optimism. Truly. But unless I wake up tomorrow as the mayor of Pennsylvania, this argument needs to take a seat.
“New Math was wild. New Geography is feral.”
Old Cinematography vs. New Geography
This entire exchange reminds me of my favorite move, Sleepless in Seattle. Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan … pure 90s rom-com perfection. There’s a scene where Sam (Tom Hanks) is arguing with his son, Jonah, about meeting Annie (Meg Ryan) who lives in Baltimore. Pulling down a wall-sized map (because hey, we all have one of those in the dining room, right?), Sam points to Seattle, then to Baltimore, and emphatically explains that “there are like, 26 states between here and there!”
That scene is literally the opposite of Dating App Logic:
“Three states away? Close.”
“Seven-hour drive? Practically next door.”
“Opposite ends of Virginia? Same neighborhood.”
“East Coast? West Coast? Tomato, tomahto.”
Meanwhile I’m over here with Sam’s wall map declaring:
“Sir, unless you’ve discovered teleportation, that is NOT close.”
And I don’t care how many times I’ve cried during An Affair to Remember — I’m NOT going to the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day to meet “Mr. Right” who turns out to be “Mr. Wrong Directions.”
💭 Picture, if you will …
King George: “Babe, I’m here!” — text from the Space Needle.
Because in Dating App Geography:
New York, Seattle… “What? They’re both big cities.”
“Empire State Building” = “the tall one, right?”
East Coast, West Coast, Potato, Potahto.
Meanwhile, I’m standing in the icy February wind, clinging to my dignity and a latte, and he’s out there taking blurry selfies three thousand miles away like:
“Traffic was crazy, but I made it!”
Sir. No. No, you did not. You crossed the wrong time zone, let alone the wrong building.
👀 I can see it now …
King George: (stillin Seattle, still blissfully unaware) “Yeah babe, I’m lookin’ right at it—big, tall, pointy thing. Sorta shiny. Totally iconic. I’ll meet you at the top.”
Heather: “…Sir. That is the Space Needle.”
King George: “Same difference.”
Heather: “Mm. Okay. Well, when you find me, we can drive north to Tennessee and sail across the Phoenix Ocean.”
M&M Moral of the Week
If your opening move includes:
📌 Ignoring geography 📌 Rewriting geography 📌 Inventing new geography
…that’s a hard swipe left, my friend.
I want a man who respects boundaries — emotional and geographical. If you think Georgia is next door to Virginia because you wish it were (and, more importantly, because “VA is close to PA”) … you might be the reason I shake my head and close the app.
Heatheresque Closing 💅🏻
Dating after 40 requires patience, humor, and apparently, remedial map skills. But here’s the thing: Every confused King George reminds me why I’m writing this blog in the first place.
Because somewhere out there is a woman reading this, nodding so hard she spills her coffee, whispering, “Oh thank GOD it’s not just me.”
And somewhere out there? Maybe — just maybe — is a man who can read a map. 🗺️🔍
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.
Menopause & Malarkey 