I came across a Craig's List post where a very dominant man was in search of a very submissive female.
Simone Dadoun-Cohen is an entrepreneur, former exotic dancer, wife, mother of three, and pot-stirrer. Her website, EstablishedMen.com, seems recession-proof, as it counts over 250,000 affluent men and beautiful young women among its members. One of the only "Sugar Daddy" sites with a female at the helm, Established Men was recently profiled on Nightline, which posed the question as to whether Dadoun-Cohen is a thinly veiled pimp of sorts.
Some folks believe that falling in love is a matter of fate—trusting that if they go about their lives, they'll meet their soul mates. Others approach it with the strategy of a business investment. Ron James, 48, for example, contacted hundreds of women—sometimes going on three dates in one day(!)—until he met the right one.
Still stuck in a '90s mindset that online dating is for the hyper-sexed or otherwise socially dysfunctional populace? Get over yourself, online dating sites offer more benefits than you think: from scoring a free meal ticket to practicing your people skills, here are 8 love buzzy reasons why online dating is great.
EHarmony claims in television and online ads that 2% of people who got married last year in the U.S. met through their site. Earlier this year, a Match.com media kit boasted that twelve marriages and engagements a day could be credited to their site. And Marcus Frind, chief executive and founder of Plenty of Fish says his dating site brings about 100,000 marriages a year. For those of us who are proponents of online dating, these statistics — at first glance — seem promising. But are they really reliable, or are they — as Mark Twain once said of all statistics — just lies?
In years following my last serious relationship and tortured breakup, I became an online dating veteran. For two years, I went on countless first dates, a handful leading to a second, none leading to romance. I shed no tears about these strike-outs, having already found plenty of substitutes for love. The painful end to the long-term relationship led me first to the glory of take-out and then to television, culminating in renting DVDs of the Sci Fi show Battlestar Galactica. For me, there was no higher paradise than sitting on my floor, eating Ethiopian take-out, and watching my characters go through their torrid emotional ups and downs (while I, coincidentally, experienced none). Little did I know then that watching Battlestar Galactica would, in part, spell the end of my online dating career.
I've done online dating on and off for a few years, and because I live in a relatively small city, selection is limited. I'm always on the lookout for another set of prospective dates so when my friend told me about all the people she saw on the website Plenty of Fish, I had to try it. In a couple of days I probably received 20 emails, all from people I didn't want to write back, either because they couldn't write well enough for me to believe they'd passed 5th grade, or because they were more than 10 or 15 years older than I am...or because they said they were free most mornings and wanted to have some fun. I wonder, is it likely that a PhD student who says she is looking for a long term relationship (they make you specify) would want to date a 60 year old man who can't spell or hook up with a married guy two towns over for pre-lunch sex? And yet, I've sent about six emails myself, but only received one reply from someone who didn't write me back after that. I didn't think I was contacting people who would be repulsed to receive an email from me, but apparently I'm off the mark. It just seems odd to me that we can't do better. I know who's in my league in real life. Is it just that everyone takes online dating so casually that it doesn't really matter if you let a few chances go by, or if you make a few hundred passes that don't go anywhere? Is it that with all the choices, we all assume we can do better than we can? Or is it just that in my city, there are so few decent single guys in their 30s that my standards are too high? I'm pretty casual about this myself, and I'm not trying as hard as I could, but I'm still surprised that no one I would date has contacted me, and no one I have contacted would date me... How can we be so off the mark?
Given the plethora of niche dating sites out there, finding one expressly for fans of politician Ron Paul, should not have come as a surprise. Unlike Obamadatingsite.com, which features nary an ode to our President beyond his namesake, RonPaulSingles.com caters to fans of the Texan Congressman. At the time of this post, there were currently 113 members registered on the site—84 men and 29 women—all presumably poised to find love among fellow Federal government haters.
There are few rules in this world that you just don't break after a certain age. In addition to not taking a french fry without asking, you do not set up fake online dating profiles for supposed friends of yours. That's identity theft, brother. Dating site hoaxes are taken very seriously, as a Scotsman named Allan Troup just learned. And now he owes his community 240 of community service for that mistake.
Some of you may have noticed that I haven’t been on a date in awhile. I promise it’s not for lack of trying—I’ve been scouring Nerve in search of interesting dating profiles, with little luck. I try not to be judgmental—after all, I wasn’t getting many virtual winks until my wonderful readers helped me polish up my profile. But a lot of the women on Nerve are making very basic mistakes that instantly turn off most guys. Here are the four most common offenses:
A woman named Laura thinks she's come up with the next big thing: finding dates with the help of Twitter. She calls it "Twating" (a mash-up of the words Twitter and dating) and she's using her friend Katie as the initial test subject for her experiment (which, thus far, has involved giving Katie the username "datekate," logging on as her, and then tweeting about how much she would like to be taken out on a date).
A guy friend told me last month that despite his ability to meet women when he's out, he has several online dating profiles. He, like some of my other friends, suggested I set up an account on Match.com or its equivalent now that I've reentered the dating scene after several years. When I gave him the same line I'd given other people—"I don't think I need to"—he said, quite matter-of-factly, "Everybody needs to. It's just how things are going to be now."