Digital cameras and dating….

Been at this about 7 years now… Oh, it’s tailed off here of late, but, follow the trends from this dating service/site, to that dating service/site.

Met’a gal that musta had an 8 year headstart on me, ‘cause her photo was 8 years old, and she kinda-sorta had the audacity to laugh about it…

I spose I’ve been guilty in the past as well… Transfer the photos ‘cause it’s easier. I ain’t gotta camera.. and whointhehell wants to be on the picture-taking end of “will you take a picture of this cheesy old fitty-five year old so I can put it on a dating site?”..I sure wouldn’t wanna be..

Yahoo.. MSN, Lycos… Matchdoctor.. Match.. Singlesnet.. Plentyoffish.. I’ve probably missed one or two…

And each time ya transfer, start anew, it’s like “well I’ll be damned, there’s old whatshername, yep.. same pic.” Happens again, and again, and again. You know they gotta change in looks.. Whatsup with that?

Daily, we look in the mirror. Nope, no change. Then again, sometimes we smack-faced with reality.

Such was yesterday. Pics from the wedding. I got the Kodak file thingy with excitement.. thumbed thru.. and then it happened.. . I was as letdown as Ralphie when he unscrambled the Ovaltine code… I felt as bad as when Bill Buckner let the ball go between his legs to lose the World Series.. but it was me, my pic, GD digital.. I hate this new HD IPOD MP3 Best Buy era…

SURELY that’s not me, but it was. The topping to the seeing the pic was when onea the dudes at the wedding.. I’d pulled up with my two 20-somethings friends.. truly good friends.. never put ‘creepy grandpa moves’ on either onea em.. when we pulled up one dude later said “hell, I thought that was Hugh Hefner.” Gulp. Ahm. Ok.

Victor, what’d u expect you’d look like? U don’t eat well, u don’t sleep enough, u work too many hours, u play too many hours. Yeah, well I’d like to think it was all the smiling I’ve done that’s made me look this way!

Wrinkly, shrively, old, tarnished… what in tarnation was I thinking wanting new pics? (There’s a photo of me and my beloved sister on my desk at work… occasionally someone will wander by, ask “who’s that?”… oh, that’s my gorgeous sister.. “no, I meant the guy.”.. It’s hell getting old!)

I ams what I ams. I’m the (old, wrinkly, I hate digital) baby, gotta love me (or hold the door open, or pickup something I dropped, or take my arm as we go down/up steps)….

I knew I shoulda drank more Ovaltine. Love, Victurd.