Hawaiian Reeves

Believe it or not, Hawaiian survived his 30th birthday and is, in fact, still alive, if not entirely well.
And if there’s any real lesson to come out of the past few weeks it’s that when driving cross-country, one must carefully plan ahead in order to not be victimized by the early start to primetime in the Central and Mountain time zones. Otherwise, you might find yourself killing time in a wretched mall restaurant in Phoenix only to avoid spending another hour in a wretched hotel room in Phoenix only to eventually find that you suffered through the sights and sounds of a Rainforest Cafe when you could have been on a hard mattress suffering through the sights and sounds of last week’s episode of American Idol. This is particularly poignant since that’s one less Mandisa performance that I got to see, and given my slight crush’s deep love for her amazing thickness, I’m afraid he might ditch me on Idol nights now, which means her early departure could put a damper on my already stagnant social life.

But maybe some alone time would be good right now. To be honest, I’m still not even close to being recovered from spending four days driving through the middle of nowhere. And yes, most of the country can be aptly described as “nowhere”. My only joy was looking for horrific billboards and praying for some kind of wifi at night so I could blindly stare at perezhilton while watching reruns of House Hunters. Perez and I have the same birthday season and a similar love of young and whorish women, so it felt like I had a partner in crime along the way. This is actually the third time I’ve taken this trip, and each time has been with the same friend,and I’m hoping, really, truly hoping, that this time was the absolute last. Because frankly, TiVo or not, I’m really just too old to spend that much time away from my own TV.

And as much as I missed my own bed, my own car, and my own bathroom, the thing I missed most might have been the

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***Hawaiian would like to warn his readers that this post contains content intended for an adult audience, and may not be suitable for young children, social conservatives, or graduates of Liberty University.***

So it’s probably no surprise to most of you that nearly all of the fish I’ve thrown back in the dating pool for the last few years have been caught in online wells. Believe it or not, I’m actually quite shy in groups of people despite looking more like a bouncer than a club kid, and since I don’t really drink and I can look at profiles during commercial breaks(because we’ve established that I don’t have TiVo), going to bars with the hope of meeting someone worth meeting seems really inefficient, frankly. Of course, I can dismiss a bar filled with 50 guys who spent their weekend doing meth a bit more quickly than I can get through 50 profiles of guys whose pictures predate their PNP days, but when given the option, I’m going to argue for whatever form of effiency allows me to be a homebody.

Which is precisely how I started watching my latest soon-to-be-convicted pleasure, Log In For Love. This new TLC show follows women on both coasts as they navigate the seas of online dating, and in more than one case, I’d say their ships are sinking. I’m also not entirely sure that any of them have lifeboats. (more…)