The Photos Mom Warned You About 🚩

January 5, 2026January 4, 2026 Heather KightLeave a comment

A Menopause & Malarkey Field Guide

The Photos Mom Warned You About
🚩 Dating App Edition
Menopause & Malarkey

Whilst perusing through Match profiles, I landed on one that caught my eye.
Not because he was, as my daughter says, “not ugly.”
Not because his bio was charming. (It consisted of one sentence. That’s it.)
Not because my heart skipped a beat.

It was because if you looked up “The most overused profile pictures men use on the dating apps” in M&M’s Guidebook to Swiping Left — this gentleman would be the poster boy.

The Fish 🐟

All I can think is, “Teach a man to fish.”
I have no clue as to how that relates to dating.

The fish is not the problem.
The grip, the pose, and the “this defines me” energy are.

If your personality requires gills, we are not compatible.

The Flex 💪

Yes, we see your biceps.
No, we do not see your eyes.

Mirror.
Tank top.
Lighting from the underworld.

Sir, I did not ask to attend your workout performance review.

The Fedora 🎩

Was it too bright outside? Did you forget your sunglasses? Have pinkeye?

Ah yes.
The fedora.

Often paired with:
• a bathroom
• a vest
• confidence disproportionate to reality

This hat has seen things. None of them were good decisions.

The Combo Meal Nobody Ordered ☠️

The unholy trifecta … bless his heart.

When The Fish, The Flex, and The Fedora appear in the same profile…

That’s not coincidence.
That’s a warning label.

The Real Issue

This isn’t about looks.
It’s about self-awareness.

If every photo screams “Please be impressed,”
I already know I’ll be tired.

M&M Rule

If you wouldn’t send the photo to your daughter,
your sister,
or your mother…

Maybe don’t make it your dating profile.

In Conclusion …

Dating apps are not a costume party.
You do not need props.

Just clarity.
Effort.
And at least one photo in which I can see your eyes.

— Menopause & Malarkey

🚩 Red Flag Friday: The Department of “Government”

December 26, 2025 Heather KightLeave a comment

Welcome back to Menopause & Malarkey, where it’s Friday night, dinner’s been eaten and dogs are sleepin’, and once again… the internet has audacity.

Tonight’s specimen arrived wrapped in good looks, thoughtful prompts, and the emotional vocabulary of someone who clearly owns at least one throw pillow.

He laughs at inside jokes.
Believes in loyalty.
Loves deeply.
Builds real connections.
Even listed The Grapes of Wrath as a favorite book.
I paused. I considered. I adjusted my glasses.

Then I saw his employment.

Government.

Just… Government.
Not city, not state, not federal.

Not “I work for the county and complain about meetings.”
Just Government—like a manila folder with secrets inside.

🚩 Flag raised.

But wait—there’s more.

Within moments, I received a message that read (and I paraphrase only slightly):

“Hello Heather, I would love to get to know you better and maybe become friends or more. Please contact me immediately via Gmail or WhatsApp.”

Ah yes.
Ye olde eHarmony-to-WhatsApp migration.
A classic move straight out of the Scammer Starter Kit.

Side-by-side illustration of an online dating red flag. One side shows a charming, well-dressed man reading The Grapes of Wrath with a glass of wine by a cozy fireplace. The other side reveals the same man as a hoodie-wearing scammer juggling a phone, laptop, and cash. Caption contrasts “What he wants you to think” versus “But in reality.” — *Red Flag Friday reminder: nice photos don’t equal nice intentions.*

Let’s review the Red Flags, shall we?
🚩 Employment listed as “Government”
🚩 Immediate request to move off the platform
🚩 Email + WhatsApp combo platter
🚩 Phone number typed like a Sudoku puzzle
🚩 Not a single reference to my actual profile
🚩 Polite, generic, emotionally fluent… and entirely hollow

This, my friends, is why the phrase, “Not today, Satan” was invented.

Handsome? Yes.
Convincing? Almost.
Genuine? Absolutely not.

Here’s the thing:
We are not cynical—we are experienced.
We are not bitter—we are efficient.
And we are no longer entertaining men whose profiles read like romance novels but whose intentions collapse under basic scrutiny.

So tonight’s Red Flag Friday reminder is this:
✨ If his employment could not be verified by Google, LinkedIn, or common sense…
✨ If he wants to flee the app faster than a bra at the end of the day 🏆
✨ If his message could have been sent to 47 other women named Heather
—then bless him, block him, and move on.

Graphic with white text on a charcoal background reading, “Bless him, block him, and move on.” Menopause & Malarkey watermark in the corner.

Because we are not lonely.
We are discerning.
And our BS detectors are fully operational.

Happy Red Flag Friday, ladies and gents. See you next week—same sass, fewer scams. 😏🚩

Dating After Dignity · Menopause & Mischief

Tired Tuesday: The Geographically Challenged

December 9, 2025December 9, 2025 Heather Kight1 Comment

Some nights, the date-iverse is too much to handle.

Scratch that.

MOST nights of seeking a genuine connection via dating apps in 2025 are uninspired.

I have reached the point where I don’t visit the Kmart clearance rack of poor punctuation and shirtless shenanigans unless I receive a notification. (Hmm, wonder if I can assign an ominous tone to it 🤔) But, I digress.

In four days, my subscription to Chapter 2 (a site specifically for widows and widowers) will expire. I shan’t be renewing. Not that I have anything against the site; I’m just, well, tired.

Four days until the finish line.

Still plenty of time for interested suitors to come a-callin’.

So when a message popped up, I took a gander at his profile.

Scott.
Nice-looking Scott.
Normal-message Scott.
Potentially trustworthy Scott.
But… Utah Scott.

For the love of GPS.

When you’re the emotional support airplane for a woman who keeps getting matched with men 1,600 miles away.

My reply was polite.

“Thank you, but 1,600 miles isn’t conducive to building a relationship.”

His response, also cordial, carried the aroma of snowflakes, cocoa, and Hallmark. ❄️☕️💕

“If two hearts connect, no distance is too far.”

Sir. I am 55 years old. Driving down the street to Kroger is too far. 🚗🤷🏼‍♀️

As humorous as “Men without Maps” can be, the truth is —

It makes me sad. I find myself sitting here contemplating if a long distance friendship could be possible. But then I ask, what if he’s another scammer with a decent grasp of grammar?

That right there — that exact emotional seesaw — is the honest human cost of dating in 2025.

It’s not just frustration.
It’s not just annoyance.
It’s not even the exhaustion of dodging Keith Sweat disciples, and men whose job title is “Boss at Self-Employed.”

It’s the sadness beneath the snark.
That little ache of:

“What if he’s real?”
versus
“What if he’s not?”

Ladies, if you’re rowing in this boat too, listen up:

You’re not soft for thinking it.
You’re not foolish.
You’re not naïve.
You’re human.
You’ve lost real love.
You’ve lived real life.
You know what connection feels like — and how rare it is.

So when someone shows up sounding…
normal,
kind,
respectful,
gentle,
and not shirtless in front of the bathroom mirror …
your heart can’t help but tilt its head a little.

Because part of you wants to believe a good man might still exist — even if he’s 1,600 miles away, even if he’s just a pleasant blip in the algorithmic chaos.

But then?

The reality of dating in 2025 barges in wearing a name tag, shouting:

“SCAMMER! FLUNKED GEOGRAPHY & CARTOGRAPHY! TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!”

And you’re left in limbo between hope and heartbreak, without ever having met the man.

It’s the quiet sadness of:

“I don’t want to be played. ”

“I don’t want to be disappointed.”

“I don’t want to waste emotional energy.”

“I don’t want to be fooled.”

“But… what if he was just nice?”

It’s the emotional equivalent of standing at the window watching birds —
one might be beautiful,
but at any moment it could squawk, steal your fries, and fly away.

Still…
there’s something tender in you wanting to believe in friendship.
That’s not weakness.
That’s wisdom wearing softness.
That’s a heart with miles on it — but still open enough to feel.

Dating After Dignity · Menopause & Mischief

⭐ M&M Mini Post: Kudos Where They’re Due

November 29, 2025November 29, 2025 Heather KightLeave a comment

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.” 🦜

Two digital caricatures side-by-side. On the left: a friendly, ‘simple guy’ illustrated with a soft smile, a short haircut, and a plain T-shirt, arms relaxed at his sides, giving warm and approachable energy. On the right: a playful pirate caricature with long hair, a bandana, an eye patch, dramatic rings, and beaded braids, holding one hand near his face in an exaggerated pose. Both figures are drawn with rounded, charming cartoon style. — Humility +Humor=👏🏻👏🏻

Menopause & Mischief · Red Flags & Walking Punchlines

🔥 M&M: The Case of the Almost-Perfect Candidate … Until …

November 24, 2025 Heather KightLeave a comment

Ladies… gather ‘round.
Because today’s roast is brought to you by:

Hope.
Disappointment.
And a man who went from “ooh la-la” to “oh no, no” in two seconds flat.

Let me set the scene:
Facebook Dating serves me up a cutie pie. (Who, by the way, was categorized as a “perfect match.”)
Not “eh, he’ll do.”
Not “maybe if the light is forgiving.”

No.
This one was legit cute:

Good smile
Local
Normal hobbies
Age-appropriate
No up-the-nose or on-the-bed selfies
Looked like his mother raised him with soap and manners

I thought,
“Well butter my biscuit and call me hopeful…”

For a few glorious minutes, I believed.

Then—
THEN—

Sir Flirt-a-Lot answered the prompt:

“What’s your favorite time of day?”
with:

✨😏 “SEXY TIME” 😏✨

Right above the “My shades are cool, and my abs are hot” topless beach pic.

SIR.
There I was, enjoying your adorable grin, your puppy photo, your backyard sunshine…
And suddenly you hit me with a whiplash-inducing combo of:

“Look how sweet and normal I am!”
followed immediately by
“HERE ARE MY PECS AND MY INTENTIONS.”

*So close and yet so far … off the mark.*

Let me be extremely clear:

SEXY TIME
…is not a time of day.
It is an ick.
A category.
A hazard.
A sign from the heavens that says:
“Abort mission, Heather. This man has no internal editor.”

You know what it felt like?

Like I ordered a Chick-fil-A sandwich and halfway through found a live scorpion wearing sunglasses. 🕶️

Everything was perfect.
I was rooting for him.
ROOTING.
And then—
like a child in the church Christmas program repeating the cuss word Mommy muttered earlier—
he proudly typed:

SEXY.
TIME.

With the emoji. 😏
THE EMOJI.

I went from:
😌 “Oh wow, what a cutie.”
to
🫠 “Sir, why?”
to
💀 “We cannot date. Ever.”

in 0.4 seconds.

Like… why do they DO this?

Why is it that right when I’m thinking,
“Ohhh, he seems normal,”
a man will suddenly fling out the word SEXY TIME like he chose “Inappropriate Pick-up Lines for 100, Alex” on Jeopardy.

It’s always when you least expect it.

He’s giving:
• Golden Retriever energy
• Family-man vibes
• Would help you carry in the groceries
• Might even remember your birthday

In reality, he’s:
• Answering normal prompts with unnecessary levels of testosterone
• Displaying more sweat and sunscreen than any photo should capture
• Abandoning all filters and foresight
• Utilizing “the ole bait ‘n switch” to perfection

Instant downgrade to:

🏅 Honorable Mention:

The Almost That Absolutely Isn’t.

Because here’s the truth:

A man can look like sweet tea and sunshine…
but if “sexy time” is his favorite time of day?
Sir, you may exit (in true Beyoncé fashion) — to the left, to the left.

Menopause & Mischief · Red Flags & Walking Punchlines

🚩 Red Flag Friday: “The Thighs Have Eyes” — Nightmare on Match Street

November 21, 2025November 20, 2025 Heather KightLeave a comment

It began the way all great horror movies begin:
in the dark, just before dawn, when the world is quiet, your guard is down, and nothing good ever comes from checking your phone.

4:51 a.m.

My phone glowed on the nightstand — soft, eerie, and absolutely up to no good.
You know the scene: the quick cut, the ominous music shift, and the audience whispering,

“Don’t… pick… it… up.”

But I did.
Because I am the Surviving Heroine in this psychological thriller, and also because I regularly make bad decisions before caffeine.

I cracked open one eye.
Then the other.
I reached.

And with the naïve innocence of the victim in the first 10 minutes of a slasher film… I unlocked the screen.

Retro comic image of woman squinting at glowing phone screen — *This is why do not disturb was invented.*

There he was.

Andre.
From Illinois.
Awake at 3:51 a.m. HIS time.
Which already raises the eyebrow of suspicion.

His opener?

“Good morning 😃 You’re pretty!”

I should’ve closed my eyes and gone back to sleep.
I should’ve thrown the whole phone out the window.

But no.
Curiosity won — as it always does — and the typing bubbles began.

Fast.
Aggressive.
Like a chatbot on steroids.

🩰 Scene 1: Ballet, Cheerleading… or Cult Initiation?

The questions came rapid-fire:

“Did I wake you?”
“You work out?”
“What competitive sports were you in?”
“Ever did ballet?”
“Cheerleading?”

Dude.
It is before 5 a.m.
I haven’t even remembered my own name yet.

This was no small talk.
This was an athletic inquisition.

Vintage comic panel of a bald man at a laptop in a dimly lit room, with pom-poms hanging ominously in the background. — *Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer …*

This image is EXACTLY how it felt:
Andre, hunched over a keyboard in a dim lair, illuminated only by the unholy glow of his laptop and a deep desire to measure my quads.

🍗 Scene 2: “Nice curves!” — and the Descent Into Madness (Muah, ha, ha)

As I scrolled his profile — trying to confirm whether he was:

human,
Martian, or
texting from an abandoned Gold’s Gym

— my phone buzzed again.

“Nice curves!”

In our movie, that was the whisper before the jump scare.

And then came the final blow…

🔥 Scene 3: The Line That Summoned The Cyber Police

Just as my thumb hovered over BLOCK, he fired off the message that cemented his place in Red Flag Friday history:

“Your thighs pretty strong?”

Wait … WHAT.

It’s before sunrise.
The house? Dark.
The dogs? Asleep.
My patience? Gone.

You can’t ask about thighs at this hour. Or any hour. Ever.
It violates at least three federal laws and one sacred truth:

✨ No thighs before sunrise. ✨

No.
No, no, no.

Period.

Vintage comic panel of a sad ThighMaster exercise tool cartoonishly crying under a spotlight — *Even the ThighMaster — abandoned since 1993 — knows this is a violation.*

❌ Scene 4: The Final Girl Moment

It happened in slow motion.
The music swelled.
I hit BLOCK so hard my phone considered filing a complaint.

Vintage comic-style illustration of a silver-haired woman dramatically pressing the block button on her phone. — *Can I block someone more than once???*

Andre vanished.
Banished.
Slithered back to whatever early-morning Thigh Dimension he crawled out of.

🎬 FINAL SCENE — PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

And now, friends, a crucial PSA:

If a man asks about your thighs before sunrise…
That is not romance.
That is not flirtation.
That is not curiosity.

That is:

🚨 A Thigh-Based Emergency 🚨

Report immediately.
Block swiftly.
And repeat after me:

No thighs before sunrise.

The Bold Before The BLOCK

Tune in next week for another installment of:

Tag: Online Dating Humor

The Photos Mom Warned You About 🚩

The Fish 🐟

The Flex 💪

The Fedora 🎩

The Combo Meal Nobody Ordered ☠️

The Real Issue

M&M Rule

In Conclusion …

🚩 Red Flag Friday: The Department of “Government”

Tired Tuesday: The Geographically Challenged

⭐ M&M Mini Post: Kudos Where They’re Due

🔥 M&M: The Case of the Almost-Perfect Candidate … Until …

🏅 Honorable Mention:

🚩 Red Flag Friday: “The Thighs Have Eyes” — Nightmare on Match Street

🩰 Scene 1: Ballet, Cheerleading… or Cult Initiation?

🍗 Scene 2: “Nice curves!” — and the Descent Into Madness (Muah, ha, ha)

🔥 Scene 3: The Line That Summoned The Cyber Police

✨ No thighs before sunrise. ✨

❌ Scene 4: The Final Girl Moment

🎬 FINAL SCENE — PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

🚨 A Thigh-Based Emergency 🚨

No thighs before sunrise.

Red Flag Friday — where the flags are bright, the men are bold, and the dating apps never disappoint in disappointing me. 🚩🚩🚩

🩸 The Final Girl of Facebook Dating

🔪 The Scream Queen of Swipe Culture

👠 The Slayer of Scammers

📣💃🗣️✨ The Creator of Cheer Noir™