Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Not for all the money....
Say one idea you had for coping is to find a mate and you hire a “matchmaker.” Say that matchmaker is Patti Stanger of “Millionaire Matchmaker.”
Are you nuts?
First, in five years of watching I can barely remember any couple hooking up. Oh—yes—“Sex Toy” Dave, a mumbling adolescent manchild who sold, well, guess, who actually found his own mate someplace.
And Patti is 50 and dresses so hootchy! My gosh, gal—longer skirts and put the girls away. All she thinks about is her surgically enhanced or dieted self.
What is UP with the guy with the Mohawk and his wife with the cerise bangs who work in her office—and Patti SCREAMS at people for inappropriate looks and clothing. Hello?
And those meltdowns—cutely called Patti Melts—“Get the eff out of my effing club.” But once she also yelled—no refunds! That was funny.
Soooo….what is my point. I watch, don’t I? I guess that is all that counts. Oh—and I feel really good about being single—any man, no matter how rich, who makes me surf or go down a zipline or put on a bikini on the first date…well..I can think of a place for that checkbook.