In November of 2015 my life changed for the better.  I was turned onto Starbuck’s cold brew coffee and I haven’t looked back.  Prior to jumping on the Starbuck’s bandwagon I didn’t realize what all the fuss was about.  Now, I am fully aware of the amazingness that is Starbucks.  The rational behind my jump to cold brew coffee was to continue to pump caffeine into my system as I weaned myself off diet coke and energy drinks.  Being Dutch I realized it was not financially feasible to drink two vente cold brews a day.  To continue my cold brew obsession without having to sacrifice retirement savings I decided to home brew most of my cold brew coffee.  (I still hit Starbuck’s once in a while, there’s a barista who reminds me of Natalie Portman at my local Starbucks, and I ‘m quite confident she thinks I’m super creepy, however one of the other barista’s actually recognized me and new exactly what my order was going to be, I still got it)  I probably need to quickly explain the cold brew process to keep this thing going in the  proper direction.  The process requires ground beans to be placed in a jar and then mixed with water.  12 hours later you have your self a delicious caffeinated beverage.

The problem with the cold brew is that it creates a ton of coffee grounds and very little actual coffee.  What compounds the problem is that Shirley lives in constant fear that our septic system is going to completely collapse and in turn our drain field will become unusable, making our house worthless unless we are  willing to go to the bathroom in five gallon buckets and bathe at the car wash (that would be a truly petrifying experience).  However irrational her fear may be, and it is along with a lot of other fears she has, none of which are of midgets or clowns which, completely rational fears, it definitely exacerbates her displeasure when coffee grounds are found in the sink.  This morning as I crafted a cold brew I wondered to myself “are coffee grounds bad for your septic system?”  There was a statement by Iron Man (Tony Stark) in the latest Marvels movie when he found coffee grounds in the sink at Avengers tower that would lead one to think coffee grounds may bring about the degradation of a septic system.  However, his credibility is completely shot due to the fact that he fought Captain America for the entire second half of the movie.

So, how was I to find out if coffee grounds are actually a threat to my entire existence?  Am I one more batch of coffee grounds from having to take a poop in a five gallon bucket?  Oh wonderful internet, I’m sure you have the answer for me.  It was the internet that allowed me to figure out how to cold brew, the internet that allowed Shirley to order my cold brew equipment on Amazon Prime, and the internet can most certainly tell me if I need to dump my grounds out back in the rubbish pile or just put them down the disposal.  However, before I could get out my phone and google the answer to my question I asked myself “how the heck did people figure this kind of shit out before Al Gore invented the internet (he did, just ask him)?  How did anyone figure anything out back then?  I realize a big portion of my life was PI (pre-internet) but I have totally blocked that out of my memory and any memories I have of that time have had internet inserted in them, it just make the memory a whole lot better with the internet in the background even if it didn’t actually exist back then.

AI (after internet) is the only way to go and I just did a little research to find out when the internet was invented by using the internet (no way I could have done that if we didn’t have the internet) and it appears it was invented in 1983 but the world wide web didn’t come about until 1990.  So, we are living in the year 26 AI.  I realize we have that AD BC thing we currently use, but how do you really know exactly when Jesus Christ was born? I feel like whoever came up with that concept to track time was just guesstemating on that date and we need to move on to PI/AI to track the course of time.

Prior to getting to 0 AI how did people know stuff?  How did they find out new stuff?  How did they keep track of the comings and goings of housewives and their empty lives?  (There was no Facebook)  Can you imagine trying to order take out back in the PI days?  First of all how did you figure out the phone number to the take out place?  Yellow pages, fuck that, that sounds like way too much work having to pull out a book and then figure out what category in that book to look under for the take out place you want to eat at.  On top of that, how do you know if it is any good, they may have some complimentary things in their yellow pages add that claim they are the best, but they came up with the advertisement, so it’s like me telling someone I’m good at sex, they aren’t going to know if I’m right unless they give me a shot.  Google reviews, Yelp, and other resources on the internet allow you to get mostly unbiased reviews (I’m sure there are people who write their own positive reviews and competitors who write negative reviews) but for the most part the reviews, if there are enough of them, are not going to steer you in the wrong direction.

Renting movies back in the PI days was a complete mine field of disappointment as well.  I realize renting movies is somewhat of a PI concept in and of itself, but there was a time where the internet did exist in conjunction with Blockbuster Video.   Back then you had to rely on what was on the cover of the movie jacket and the reviews that may have been placed on the cover of the jacket.  Now unless the movie stars Adam Sandler (meaning it is a complete turd sandwich)  a person typically has to rely on the internet and IMDB or Rotten Tomatoes to figure out if a particular movie is worth investing a couple hours of time into.

How would you answer the coffee grounds question in the PI days?  Go to the stack of Encyclopedias gathering dust in your living room?  Good luck finding the answer there.  You would probably have to call a plumber if you wanted a legitimate answer to your question and that would require you to procure a phone number to a plumber which requires the Yellow Pages.  That’s a whole lot of work when the alternative is to live in complete ignorance and just pour the coffee grounds down the drain hoping for the best.  Imagine the call you would have to make:

“Bob’s plumbing how can I help you?”

“Hey there Bob, do you guys deal with coffee grounds?”

“Coffee grounds, excuse me?”

“Yeah, coffee grounds, what kind of effect do they have on your plumbing and septic system?”

“We never covered that in plumbing school, you might want to call Maxwell House.”

How would you be able to find out who won the bronze medal at the 1984 summer olympics for men’s 110 meter hurdles?  Or the women’s decathlon at the 1992 olympics?  Where would you go to determine which country won the most medals in the 1976 winter olympics.  Some of you may ask yourselves “who gives a shit?”  My response, exactly.

 

 

Oh no, he saw me.  How does this always happen.  Definitely not on my Costco game today.

“Hello there sir, how are you doing?”

Do I respond or do what I usually do, and completely ignore this guy?  I always let my guard down at the entrance when I am trying to locate my membership card.  On top of that the Direct TV guys are like fricken chameleons the way they are able to camouflage themselves amongst the televisions.  Wait a minute, this guy may actually be of some type of use to me.

“Terrible, I’m doing absolutely terrible.  My wife just suggested that we give up TV for the summer.  Honestly, I don’t watch that much TV in the summer time and I probably won’t even notice it being gone, but my kids, what about my kids.  I sprung the news on my oldest son Tod and he was beside himself, the kid cried for a half hour straight.  Then at dinner he somehow remembered television was going to be gone soon and he started crying all over again.  Eat you’re taco Tod and quit crying!”

“Not sure where I fit in here, I was trying to sell you on a Direct tv package and it sounds like that is the lest thing you are going to be needing.”

“No, you are exactly what I need.  TV is your profession, TV content at least, look at all of these channels, I bet you have the ultimate package, one that has all the porno channels even though that’s basically what the internet is for now a days.  You have been to the mountain top, what would you do if your wife told you you had to give up TV for the summer?”

“I don’t actually have a wife, don’t tell anyone this, but I live in my parent’s basement.  You see that guy who checks the receipts, a job that is completely unnecessary by the way since there is absolutely nothing to steal once you get through the check out, that guy makes more money than I do.  I have been working here for six months and I have sold three Direct Tv packages and been told to fuck off 3,012 times.  Not a real good ratio, but their Pizza is so good it makes all the rejection worth it, plus I get free Direct TV.”

“Ok, let’s say your mom wants to pull the plug on your Direct TV package because she’s found way too many crusty sweat socks in your room, how would you respond?”

“My mom would probably end up being dismembered and put in our the freezer next to my dad if she suggested that.  I drive a 1994 Kia, live in my mom’s basement, and can’t even pick up fat chicks on tinder, tv is all I have to live for.  Hold on, we are already getting dad’s social security check, maybe I should do away with mom and then I could probably afford a late model Hyundai and I wouldn’t have to pretend like everything Rush Limbaugh says is right, god that guy is such a blow hard and an asshole.”

“That’s all kind of frightening but your secret is safe with me as long as you can somehow convince my wife that television is almost as essential to our sustenance as food and alcohol. I really don’t think she has thought this thing through, is she really going to get up every weekend morning with the kids and entertain them instead of sticking them in front of the tv while she sleeps in?  No, she’s going to make me get up with the kids, she’s going to use her womanly ways of persuasion and I’m going to be the one getting my ass out of bed to entertain the kids.”

“How am I suppose to convince her that all that is wrong with tv isn’t quite enough to overcome the hours of free babysitting it can provide?”

“That’s the problem, I can’t go to that argument, it’s too logical, and too self serving.  She will consider herself a terrible parent, well even more of a terrible parent, women seem to be much harder on themselves when it comes to parenting then men are, if she continues on with television for the singular purpose of entertaining the kids while she sleeps.  I will say this, and this may be my strongest argument, it’s going to be tough for her to wait me out for sex without Masterpiece Theatre or Survivor around.  I like sex a lot, but I have my limits and Masterpiece Theatre plot lines are about as captivating as your actual life, at least your actual life minus the fact that you chopped up your dad and you and your mom are cashing his social security checks.  Furthermore, I could go back to the first season of Survivor and there is absolutely nothing that differentiates it from the most current season.    Jeff Probst looks exactly the same and he still wears those stupid camping/jungle shirts. There’s no way she stays up past 11:30 if she doesn’t have her go to catalogue of shitty shows on DVR to entertain her.  Maybe there is a silver lining to this whole giving up tv thing.”

“You  may want to mention that if your kids don’t have television to talk about they will likely be ostracized by their classmates.  If your kids don’t know the  ins and outs of Spiderman, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Paw Patrol you may as well just home school them, they will be socially inept.  Can you imagine the difficulties you would have experienced had you not been able to watch television?  Not being able to talk about the A team with your classmates at recess, the inability to truly see what black life is actually like through the eyes of the Huxtable family, not to mention the sexual coming of age brought about by Daisy Duke.  Television is Americana at it’s finest and to pull the plug on it is akin to an act of treason.”

“You make a great point, my Dish contract runs out in June, what’s your best sports package?  You may get out of your mom’s basement without killing her after all.”

 

It’s an annual tradition here in West Michigan, and for some reason the weather annually sucks for this annual tradition.  Back in the day I actually was a participant in the Fifth Third 25k run.  I think I ran it three times and finished it twice.  All three times I ran the race the weather was horrible.   Once again it is the day of the race and the weather is horrible.  My question to the race organizers is, can’t we have the race in February when we know the weather is going to be shitty anyways?  I’m sick of having to endure this shitty weather every year on a Saturday in May because a bunch of running enthusiasts insist upon having a road race.  However, in honor of this annual tradition I figured this would be as good of a time as any to detail some of my running exploits and thoughts on those who engage in running as a primary form of exercise.

My first two attempts at the River Bank Run were fairly uneventful and in my mind a success.  I was able to complete the race in under two hours and my best time was a little under 1 hour and 52 minutes.  I’m not sure who I was back then, but especially for my first stab at the race I was dedicated to training.  I was training with a friend of mine who I mentioned in my blog before but he didn’t really appreciate having his actual name in print.  He introduced me to the idea of actually running in a race.  For some reason he got in with a group of people who were so dedicated to running that they basically turned their back on every thing else in their life, causing numerous divorces and really bad apparel choices, particularly with shorts.  Not sure how you could feel comfortable wearing shorts so short that your balls hang out of them.  If running was a religion, their spirituality was derived from pounding the pavement on a regular basis.  Regardless of how over the top this seems, my buddy was all in for a period of time and ran with these people.  Our nickname for them was the gay potatoes, so I’ll refer to my buddy when needed as GP.

Gp had run the Riverbank prior to me and it didn’t go well.  He was kicking ass and taking names for the first half of the race but he forgot one important thing, to hydrate.  Somewhere after the big hill he completely lost it and became delusional, urinating in someone’s yard and acting entirely disoriented.  His behavior attracted medical and police attention.   They asked him if he had an emergency contact person, based upon his running outfit, possibly a boyfriend (not husband, gay marriage wasn’t cool back then) they could get in touch with to pick him up.  In all actuality, GP was actually married and surprisingly his marriage actually held up during his gay potato phase.  However, he was so out of his mind he didn’t know he was married and told the medical personal he didn’t have an emergency contact.  I checked the Sunday paper the next day for his name looking at the times below two hours, nothing, I kept expanding my search until I discovered his name somewhere in the 2:40 range.  He somehow talked the medical personnel into letting him finish and he stumbled and bumbled his way through the last few miles of the race.

Prior to setting my sites on the river bank I ran every once in a while as a way to compensate for my love of chocolate milk shakes.  One hot July morning I decided to go for a run down to the Grand River and back, I was living off Knapp and Diamond.  As I made my way back up Knapp street towards home I realized I may have a situation on my hands.  I had a decision to make, do I run as fast as I can in the hopes I make it home prior to crapping my pants or do I stop running clench my butt cheeks as tight as possible, and waddle home?  The second option seemed to be my best chance of maintaining my dignity and my shorts.  The reality was that either path I chose was going to result in catastrophe.  About an eighth of a mile before I made it home I couldn’t hold it any longer and I crapped my shorts.  The remaining walk home was one of the worst experiences of my life.  However, when my kids crap their pants I have a lot more empathy for them.  After telling Cara what happened she mentioned reverse peristalsis, a medical theory that’s basic premise is that if you have to poop your turd will retreat into your colon until you find a place to take a dump.  Bullshit!

My last attempt at the river bank run saw me alienate gp in one of our training runs.  Not sure what came over me, but during one of our training runs I thought he wasn’t going fast enough so I started running faster and he didn’t keep my pace.  I ran the last couple miles ahead of him.  This pissed him off, and rightfully so, he stopped running with me and I lost my training partner.  I’m not saying that had he stuck it out and trained with me the entire time I would have done better running the race, but it definitely didn’t help my training habits.  For some reason I thought my natural running ability (I have none) and my mediocre dedication to staying in shape would allow me to complete the 15.5 mile race. Boy was I wrong about that.  I made it to Millennium Park and had to take a dump.  As I took care of business in the port a jon people were continually pulling on the door, I hated runners at that point more than ever.  I had it locked and it said occupied so I’m not sure why people continually tried to get in, believe me they didn’t want to join me.  After dropping the kids off at the water less pool I tried to get what momentum I had back but quickly realized there was no way I  was finishing the race.  Ultimately I made it to Fulton steer and went to Nawarra Brothers appliance store and got a ride from one of the people who worked there back to my car.  (I knew the employee prior to soliciting a ride from him)

Looking out the window this morning as I type this blog I am thankful for the fact that I decided not to run the rive bank this year.  Not only did I avoid hours of running and miles of training, I avoided another shitty Saturday morning running in the rain.  Good luck to all of those who had the where with all to train, run, and attempt to complete the race.

 

 

 

 

Ladies and gentlemen we are so glad you could make it this evening.  Tonight is a very special occasion that is a milestone few ever achieve, ok, I actually have that kind of wrong. Let me rephrase that, tonight marks a milestone that everyone who makes it to the age of 4 achieves, but still who doesn’t want an excuse to unnecessarily celebrate something that has actually no significance and takes nothing to accomplish?  That’s right, showing up is all you have to do.  Hell, most of the time the kids are either napping, playing on the playground, or eating their boogers.  On top of that our preschool program begins at 9 and ends at 11:11 three days a week. That’s a total of 393 minutes a week.  I’m not even sure why they include the word school in the title,  a better name for it would be “a place to bring your kids that makes you feel like your doing something better for them than daycare but you really aren’t”  It’s like giving your kids yogurt even though it has just as much sugar in it as ice cream and basically the same nutritional value.  Regardless, our fine students have overcome insurmountable odds to get here today.

Our children have learned absolutely nothing while in our pre-school program but we still have an awards portion to our commencement ceremony.  I realize that there is no way to scholastically judge any of the children currently “graduating” from pre-school tonight since most of them just learned how to speak in incoherent sentences this year, but there are certain things that need to be acknowledged when it comes to our students.  The first award we are handing out tonight is the award for the best nap taker.  Now I realize that pre-school is only a little over two hours long three times a week but these kids are fucking nuts, it’s like trying to herd cats when you have more than four of them in a room together. So, in my mind it is entirely justifiable for them to take a  nap even if they typically are only awake for a little over an hour prior to taking that nap.  That being said, we had to disqualify all Dutch students from this award due to their genetic propensity to sleep anytime anywhere.  We weren’t even inducing these naps with a meal of roast and mashed potatoes and they were still sleeping 380 minutes a week.

The award for best nap taker goes to our only student who isn’t Dutch, while she’s actually Korean, but she was adopted by a Dutch family, but still she’s really not Dutch, maybe her parents will tell her that, but once she starts doing really well in math and driving terribly she will know she’s different from everyone else, so here’s to Soo Devries, way to go Soo, you were the only student who refused to take naps, but due to our stringent set of rules regarding this award you win.  Could we get Soo up here to accept her award?

The next award goes to our student who went the most consecutive school days without a skid mark in their underwear.  There were no ethnic parameters for this award due to the fact that all our students seemed to be incapable of wiping their own asses and their parents seemed to have tired of the task for the most part.  However, a few of our, shall we say “challenged” kids were automatically disqualified because they are still in diapers, but we still had enough kids out there in undies to make this award quite competitive.  This year we have a surprise winner folks.  In the ten years we have been giving out this award we have never had a boy take home the prize.  However, this year we have broken the poop stain gender barrier.  Can we get a round of applause for Steve VanSolkema?  He went 7 school days without a skid mark, that’s over 917 minutes of no racing stripes in his under pants.  Way to go Steve!  You are going to make one hell of a kindergartner some day, of course it’s going to be a while though, you still have to get through young fives and then there’s always the possibility of pre-kindergarten, but you’ll get there someday.  What little Steve doesn’t realize is being 16 in 8th grade isn’t such a bad thing, not only are you better at sports than everyone else you also are the only one with a driver’s license.

Our last award goes to the kid who fell from the tallest height from the playground equipment without breaking a bone.  Again, no ethnic parameters and again lots of applicants due to the fact that pretty much everyone of our kids took a major tumble while all of our teachers were busy talking about Survivor, the Bachelor, or who we think Ms. White in the front office is currently diddling.  We actually have a tie for this one, two of our students are coordinate enough to actually climb on top of the monkey bars and attempt to walk across them.  Both Elizabeth Devries and Daniel VanBruggen fell from the top of the monkey bars while standing on them, but we only have one award to hand out due to budget cuts.  So, we had to implement a tie breaker.  The tie breaker is amount of crying after the fall.  Daniel actually cried like a little bitch and Elizabeth didn’t even shed a tear so Elizabeth takes home the hardware.  I’ll be honest, had an adult done the same thing they would have ended up in a full body cast, makes me think kids are made entirely of cartilage.

Well everyone, I’m really glad you could make it out here to commemorate something that is about as remarkable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.  The children of our class have done very little to distinguish themselves from other children in their class or other children their age for that matter.  Furthermore, I realize many of you have things you could have been doing that were actually much more productive than sitting here watching a bunch of booger lickers progress to the next stage of their fairly uneventful lives, but this is something that these kids will never remember due to the fact that children don’t establish long term memories until the age of 5, and you will likely forget or at least try to forget by the end of June, so I’m sure whatever you could have been doing instead of this would have been a much better use of your time.  Just remember, it’s not too early to reserve your tickets for next years kindergarten graduation for those fortunate enough to actually be attending kindergarten next year.  Tickets are going fast, so if you want to reserve seats for loved ones, friends, neighbors, people you have met on social media, you had better act quickly.

 

 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2980740/Elitist-dating-website-beautiful-people-ditches-THREE-THOUSAND-users-piled-pounds-aged-gracelessly-500-Britons.html

Terrific news for all you beautiful single people out there, first of all you’re not married and if that wasn’t enough,  they have established a website that caters strictly to attractive people.  While this may seem shocking to some, especially to those of you who are fully aware of how ugly you are,  my question is, why would anyone who is attractive need a dating website?   In my mind, attractive people hang out with other attractive people, date other attractive people, and procreate with other attractive people in the hopes of creating more attractive people.  (this can go wrong, some times two really attractive people are so attractive that two positives create a negative and low and behold they end up with an ugly child, it’s the equivalent of having a girl in china or anywhere else I guess, but especially in China, truly awful)

In all honesty attractive women don’t even have to try, they merely have to show up, look amazing and they will land an equally, if not more attractive than them, male counter part.  What they really need to do is come up with a dating website for attractive people where they weed out the crazy ones.  Now I realize this takes 98 percent of the female population out of play, but just think if there was some actual barometer for craziness and you could use that barometer as a way to filter through attractive women and make them available to men, it would be a gold mine, assuming you could find women who weren’t crazy and were actually hot, you may have a better chance of taking a unicorn ride or having a campfire with Sasquatch.

The link I have provided, and hopefully actually works (I tried to post a picture a while back and that failed miserably, damn you wordpress!)  Outlines the story of Tawnie Lynn, pretty sure that’s not her birth name, great stripper name or country music singer name, but no way it’s her birth name.  The poor girl tried to get on beautifulpeople.com and was rejected.  Can you imagine the devastation she had to endure when she was rejected?  Fortunately for her she found an amazing plastic surgeon and a glamor shots franchise willing to go on the road and take a round of photos at her apartment complexes pool.  In all honesty, she can’t feel good about her natural beauty not being quite enough to make the grade and having to resort to major cosmetic surgery as her way in to beautiful people.com.  Furthermore, the phenomenal job the plastic surgeon did on her breasts undoubtedly distracted the judges enough that they probably didn’t even look at her face, so if she ever makes the mistake of sending in a pic that doesn’t show her boobs hanging out of a bikini she may end up having her membership revoked.

What gets me, is that a lot of these people, similar to other sites, probably pick out photos that don’t look anything like the person actually appears in real life.  So, when the date actually comes about and the other party shows up it’s the ultimate bait and switch.  I use to  get subjected to this on a fairly regular basis when I was on Match.com and eventually learned that short dates such as grabbing a drink are the way to go in case you need to implement an exit plan. (My pictures were extremely forthright, I didn’t post pictures with a hat on or a hairpiece, I never tried to misconstrue my hair situation and lead a potential date to the conclusion that I wasn’t follicley challenged)  You commit to dinner that’s at least an hour of your time, a drink can cost as little as ten to fifteen minutes.  “I’m sorry, that was my mom, I completely forgot that we do a ball room dancing class at Arthur Murray the first Tuesday of every month, I gotta go”

Now here is an actual excerpt from the article that needs to be discussed:

The most often cited reason for members being removed from the site were piling on the pounds and ‘graceless’ ageing.
More than 500 Brits, the second largest nationality, were among those axed.
The people behind the website say they cull has sent a ‘very clear message’ to its good-looking members: ‘you don’t just need to be beautiful to join; you need to stay that way, or you are out.’
The global website periodically reviews the suitability of all its members, to make sure that quality is maintained.
Beautiful People is run by married couple Greg and Genevieve Hodge and was started in 2003. Since then there have been over 7.5million people rejected from the site.
First of all, graceless aging?  What exactly does that mean?  The unwillingness to submit your body to major cosmetic surgery, or partake in a monthly regimen of botox and other age reversing treatments?  “He was a hell of a guy, and you know what, he aged with grace, not many people have that said about them at their funeral, what a guy, here’s to the memory of Tom.”  Secondly, is it a real surprise that Brits were tossed out more than any other nationality?  They are an overwhelmingly ugly people with terrible teeth.  If they included accent and used that as one of the factors in allowing people to become members it may override their over all ugliness, but it’s not.  In all honesty, I contemplated acquiring a British accent because a British accent is an instant panty dropper.  Not sure why American women fall for British accents but they do, it’s a fact.

Furthermore,  who is on this panel of reviewers who  gets to determine the suitability of the members and the continuing suitability of members?  Obviously Adam Levine from Maroon Five and Justin Timberlake, but who else is beautiful enough to have enough standing in the looks department to have denied admission to 7.5 million people?

Here’s the deal, while I probably could have pulled off a membership to this site with the help of at least $100,000 in cosmetic surgery, I didn’t discover this site back in the day when I was single, although it would have been fun to try and get in just to see how the entire process works.  I discovered the site because they played a a news segment on free beer and hot wings about the site.   On the segment they discussed the site as well as an actual live social event for beautiful people.com where a woman was told to leave because she didn’t live up to her picture.  The organizer of the event said “I could just tell she was really nervous about being there and she understood that she didn’t really belong.”  Not sure why anyone would submit themselves to this monumental form of rejection unless they had a myriad of psychological disorders.  I remember high school and the overall awfulness of it and there’s no way I would set up adult me for the kind of rejection high school me suffered.  Granted, I don’t have acne, braces, and a mullet anymore (I have tossed around the idea of growing a skullet), and it does take quite a bit to hurt my feelings, but I’m sure a rejection from the beautiful people website could easily send me down a path of self despair and self loathing.

Here is one more excerpt from the article that is worthy of comment:

Letting unattractive people populate the site would compromise the very concept for which BeautifulPeople.com was founded.’
He said that, as ruthless as it may sound, the website has been ‘kind’ in breaking the news to former members.
Mr Hodge added: ‘Each has received an email encouraging them to re-apply when they are back looking their best.
‘They are also offering free mentoring with one of the site’s beauty mentors, who have volunteered to give their time to help improve the looks, style and confidence of anyone who wants join or rejoin the site.’
I suppose it would be like letting someone who couldn’t grow vegetables or milk a cow join Farmersonly.com or someone who doesn’t have kids join MILFmatch.com, but it still sounds a bit too inclusive even if beautiful people are better than everyone else, and believe me they are.  Also of note is that they are kind about rejecting you, it’s similar to when an attractive chick use to tell me “I think we should just be friends.”  Hold on here, how am I suppose to get into your pants if we are just friends? unless you want to be get into each other’s pants friends, I can live with that, actually that’s even better.  Granted, to their credit they were trying to be kind, but who wants to be friends with a girl?

Lastly, what if your the applicant who isn’t offered the opportunity to utilize a beauty mentor?  That’s got to sting.  You’re so ugly that not even one of our beauty mentors could turn things around enough for you to be admitted as a member to our site.  Oh well, I think I will go ahead and start a dating site for ugly people called uglypeople.com since there seems to be a lot more of them around, wait a minute they already have those sites they are called tinder, match.com, and e-harmony.