It occurred to me last night, while watching one of those unintentionally comical Christianmingle.com commercials, that as far as I know there is no website dedicated to matching up the infirmed. We've got JDate for the Single Chosen People out there. eHarmony for those hopeless romantics that believe their soulmate is somewhere out there, has twelve cats and is a huge Harry Potter fan just like they are. Match.com for those in need of a emotionally devoid quicky hook-up. Countless Russian and/or Thai bride sites - I'm just assuming, I swear I've never looked. Ashleymadison.com for those philandering types that are too lazy to hit a seedy bar while supposedly "working late" like their forefather (and foremothers) did in the past. There are even prison dating sites so you know where your man or woman is at all times (the yard, chowline or in the celly are your likely options). Where is the representation on the web for the Florence (or Franklin) Nightingale types that want more than anything to care for and fall in love with a sick person? Or how about sick people looking for other sick people to swap meds, hospital tales and eventually bodily fluids with?
Honestly I haven't looked to see if these sites exist or not. I'm pretty well convinced that every time you do an odd web search your name gets dropped into a file somewhere inside The Pentagon or Langley or Area 51 or any one of those other places we are supposed to be afraid of. As a remarkably unsuccessful screenwriter I've already googled a lot of weird stuff - Welsh slang, thermonuclear devices, Pattie LaBelle and abandoned NY subway tunnels to name a few. I'm certain there is already a dossier pegging me as a Welsh separatist with plans to blow up Manhattan while singing On My Own at the top of my lungs. I don't need to add the horribly sad title of "internet dater" to that resume. Being called a potential terrorist I can live with. Accused of being bad with The Ladies I cannot.
So I am once again calling on my hoards of readers (if I got you all into a small banquet hall it'd probably look like a horde) to go forth and create a dating web site for the un-datables. Okay, that's a little cruel, most of the un-datables already joined eHarmony. Create a website where people with medically common interests (like white blood cell counts, breakthroughs in hormone therapy and the latest in wig design) can meet, fall in love and get treatments together. It doesn't just have to be for cancer patients. Restless leg syndrome sufferers could bond online. Have those Jimmy-legged bastards deal with laying in a bed together and let the rest of us get some uninterrupted sleep. Gout sufferers could stuff their faces together. Behind closed doors, preferably, no one should ever have to watch them eat. Manics could laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry - well, you get the point - together. This site needs to happen. Just think about how many totally fucked up people there are in this world. Some of them are reading this blog right now. You know who you are. You'd use this dating site. It's a gold mine!
That's the assignment for today. Let's fix these people up together. I'd be the first to join but I've already found my equally ill partner. No, she doesn't have cancer like me but she's easily as crazy as I am. Love you, Darlin.
Honestly I haven't looked to see if these sites exist or not. I'm pretty well convinced that every time you do an odd web search your name gets dropped into a file somewhere inside The Pentagon or Langley or Area 51 or any one of those other places we are supposed to be afraid of. As a remarkably unsuccessful screenwriter I've already googled a lot of weird stuff - Welsh slang, thermonuclear devices, Pattie LaBelle and abandoned NY subway tunnels to name a few. I'm certain there is already a dossier pegging me as a Welsh separatist with plans to blow up Manhattan while singing On My Own at the top of my lungs. I don't need to add the horribly sad title of "internet dater" to that resume. Being called a potential terrorist I can live with. Accused of being bad with The Ladies I cannot.
So I am once again calling on my hoards of readers (if I got you all into a small banquet hall it'd probably look like a horde) to go forth and create a dating web site for the un-datables. Okay, that's a little cruel, most of the un-datables already joined eHarmony. Create a website where people with medically common interests (like white blood cell counts, breakthroughs in hormone therapy and the latest in wig design) can meet, fall in love and get treatments together. It doesn't just have to be for cancer patients. Restless leg syndrome sufferers could bond online. Have those Jimmy-legged bastards deal with laying in a bed together and let the rest of us get some uninterrupted sleep. Gout sufferers could stuff their faces together. Behind closed doors, preferably, no one should ever have to watch them eat. Manics could laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry and laugh and cry - well, you get the point - together. This site needs to happen. Just think about how many totally fucked up people there are in this world. Some of them are reading this blog right now. You know who you are. You'd use this dating site. It's a gold mine!
That's the assignment for today. Let's fix these people up together. I'd be the first to join but I've already found my equally ill partner. No, she doesn't have cancer like me but she's easily as crazy as I am. Love you, Darlin.
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