If you have been a frequent or even occasional What a World reader for the last 34+ years, you probably know that my relationship with relationships — the serious, long-term type — has been somewhat spotty.
First, thank you for reading. I appreciate and marvel at your dedication to this relationship more than you’ll ever know. Cyber kiss!
But back to those other relationships. Like many folks, I spent most of the last two decades happily, productively single. And that was OK. I had premium cable and stuff to do.
More recently, however, fate smiled a big, big toothy grin upon me, gifting me with not only with the love of a very good woman but also an adorable little kitty. Lesbian heaven! Not for nothing, fate has also provided me with a stable professional relationship with professionals whom I respect and appreciate, and who, in turn, respect and appreciate me. And I still have premium cable. Living the dream, baby.
There was a time long ago when I craved having a partner so much that I dabbled in the whacky, whacky world of online dating. It didn’t work for me. I jumped that sinking ship when, horrifically, one primitive algorithm unexpectedly matched me someone I already knew socially, someone I considered anathema to everything decent and holy. It was an eye-opening experience that immediately prompted me to take a hard look at everything I thought I was and aspired to be. Lesson learned!
I know several couples that searched for love via online personal ads, found their forever matches, and are now decades-deep into their solid, fruitful, happily-ever-after lives together. So, given the right set of circumstances, alignments of planets and a hefty dollop of prudent common sense, online dating is a can be an effective, healthy, fruitful method to spark sparking.
(And guys, let’s face it: Grindr may be fruitful, but it is neither sensible nor particularly healthy. Our parents warned us about accepting candy from strangers, even if that stranger’s candy is especially sweet. Sorry/not sorry.)
When used safely and sensibly, online dating can efficiently winnow the field of suitors with common interests, values and traits. It is safe to say that since you’re apparently a MONTROSE STAR reader, you probably don’t list misogyny, racism, narcissism, homophobia, transphobia and white Christian nationalism as desirable traits in a romantic partner. But if you did, there’s a dating site that suits those unenviable predilections.
Gay Republican billionaire Peter Thiel, former Trump body man Johnny McEntee, and Ryann McEnany (yes, Kayleigh’s sister) announced last month that they are launching The Right Stuff, a new Pro-Trump, right-wing dating app.
Woo hoo! Open the floodgaetz!
But when this issue of STAR went to press, The Right Stuff was not exactly zooming off the launch pad. Apparently, another dating service, also called The Right Stuff, has taken exception to the new site targeting conservatives. According to TheDailyBeast.com, the original company is planning to send a cease-and-desist letter to the knock-off site.
The original, already existing Right Stuff dating service is “for people that have higher levels of education, and many of them are left-wing, so they don’t like the confusion,” condescended Michael Feigin, an attorney working on the case.
Ouch, and touché.
So, the next order of business is for Thiel, McEntee, and McEnany to come up with a new name for their latest
grift project. How about Handmaidens R Us? Incel-A-Bration Station? Conservative Canoodling? Proud But Lonely Boys? The White Stuff? Deplorables Anonymous? Lakewood Church?
Of course, members will need some profile questions to determine sufficient hookups’ devotion to MAGA, like “Rounded to the nearest dozen, how many MAGA rallies have you attended?” and “Complete this sentence: Donald Trump is (A) a moron (B) a complete moron (C) the most bigly moron in all of creation or (D) the savior of the world.”
To verify authenticity, responders will also be asked to post their pics wearing MAGA hats and “Let’s go, Brandon!” T-shirts stained with Chick-fil-A mayonnaise grease.
To entice subscribers, maybe The Right Stuff could offer free classified documents currently crypted away in Ivana Trump’s casket. Suitable for framing. Pun intended.
Whatever. Everybody deserves to find love — even MAGAts, providing they can afford the membership fee of ten bucks a month. Quite reasonable, actually. Betcha the site even has an automatic renewal button so it quietly taps users’ bank accounts every month, ad infinitum.
Also, betcha they give Kyle Rittenhouse a free membership.