DD Free, She-male tri-bred searching for UFO (Unidentifiable Female [at birth] Opthalmologist)...I know, there's a word for everything now right? What is a tri-bred you might ask. Well, I took the ancestry.com panel test and discovered that I was the product of not one, but two of my mothers lovers. It's actually called superfecundation, but who can say that? Then I discovered that those lovers were brothers, so by the process of some weird incest I became who I am today...a tri-bred. A further genetic abnormality, likely caused by the mutated genes from the whole fiasco left me with both male and female parts. Now, here's where it gets complicated. I am also somehow my own grandpa. I was married to a widow who had an eldest daughter. One of my fathers married that daughter and hence the story goes. I used to get really shy about telling my story, but I've quickly learned that everyone's family's are pretty f*cked up.
Just got divorced and lost my grandpa at the same time ;,( Would like someone to console me and possibly help me sort out all of the complex feelings I am having at this time. Looking for a friend maybe more.
She-Male Tri-Bred Personal Ad
Chocolate chip male (that’s what I call myself as a white guy with alotta brown spots, mostly on my face and back). Widow. The wife died a few years back, but I still gotta lotta dancin’ days left in me: swing, polka, some ballroom. Looking for any age female – few years younger, few years older don’t matter much to me, just as long as you can make a good pancake. Don’t even care much whatcha look like, now that my glaucoma’s clouded my eyes so much that I can’t even find the cat when it’s feedin’ time, but Martha, the checker at Walmart, says I’m still a real catch and kind of a looker. Don’t know how to use voicemail, so just call til I pick up. I promise. I’ll show you a good time. Been to every national park and still have all the photographs. And, as they say, money isn’t everything, sometimes pure personality’ll do. Don’t wear briefs, yet.
This is really a cry for help. I'm tired of doing this alone and would like to be in a relationship with a loving, caring, supportive and physically strong partner. The physical strength would come in handy right now. I'm lodged into the storm basement of my home after an altercation I had with one of my cats....Bruno. Bruno is an awesome cat, don't get the wrong idea. It was my fault for not getting the brand of treats he likes. Anyway, that is not important. What is important is that I've been living on cat jerky for three days and my phone is about to die.
A little bit about me: My name is Krystal, I used to play tennis in high school, I worked at the Fabric Warehouse until I became a cat surrogate and now I have 502 cats and counting. Don't let that scare you, most of them are very loving, it's just the few that ruin the whole bunch. If we could possibly meet here in my basement it would make things extremely convenient for me. My house is blue, but it actually looks brown due to global warming. There is a small biodome of fog surrounding the house that looks like your run of the mill pollution, but is actually cat pooh particles. If you can't find the house by color, just go for the one that smells the most like a deranged feline smeared bricks of antibiotic free diggy on the windows, doors and mailbox. I'm sorry but my phone is about to die and the landline has been cut so more details to follow...
Come meet me! It will be fun, I promise. Looking for a man that has all his shots, is super duper strong and has a non-existent sex drive. See you soon hopefully!!! Krystal
My name is Meg and I still have not found my knight in shining armor. Honestly, at this point I would settle for a knight in Khaki's or Jersey shorts. Please have steady employment. Well, at least an income. If you're a contract worker or getting under the table cash that's fine as well. If you bank at Coinstar, we'll figure it out. I would like someone who owns their own home and car. If you live in a nice apartment complex I'm also into that. If all you have is a bike and you live with your mother I'll welcome you with open arms. Please be a person that is kind to others. If you've flipped a few people off that's understandable. If you frequently troll websites leaving derogatory comments and have a misdemeanor for leaving flaming shit on someone's porch this might be a compatible situation. If you burned your families house down and have a taste for human blood I'm your girl.
You know just don't be an intravenous drug user.
Last week my friend was talkin' bout how this guy was fly and she like "he's one mighty fine dish". Oh please! Sister wants a dish and then what? Put it in the dishwasher and go watch TV? I ain't looking for no dish, I ain't looking for a spoon and I ain't lookin' for no damn butter cup. Mama wants a all you can eat buffet, m'kay? You know that buffet ain't usin' no dish, they got a full stack and them plates just keep comin'. That's what I'm talkin' bout! One dish, that's crazy!! My man's gonna be a full stack and spring loaded so mama can just keep comin' back and makin' my rounds. If you the Sizzler buffet of men specimen's than I'm ready to purchase my ticket for one.
Ain't no buffet come with just ribs, salads and plates neither. Always, always I get a tall drink. So I'mma pick up my drink and lick the straw, then I'm gonna head over to the foo and lift up all the plates mama wants AND then I'ma go back for more. And back for more. AND back for more. You feel me? AND THEN they got a whole other station filled with doughnuts and creme, chocolate on chocolate and buttery fruit rolls. That's a whole other three trips!
My girlfriend lookin' for a dish, mama lookin' for an all-you-can-eat and no double dippin'!
My therapist says I have a Jesus complex. You know, I don't think just because the last three boyfriends I had were on the registry means that I have a savior complex. One of them had a heroine addiction, but he was deep down a really good guy. The addiction was essentially making him steal from people and the resulting paranoia caused him to kill a few cats. Less than ten. Actually, the last two boyfriends I had were sleeping with each other while I was with one of them, that's a WHOLE other story.
If I was Jesus I certainly would have forgiven Jessie. He was a guy I dated for two months that catfished me out of 12,000 dollars by saying it was paying for him to go on a mission to Zimbabwe to set up a well for a impoverished family of nine. Then a guy from my work tracked him and found out he was an out of work drag queen living in Chicago and purchasing Mannyhose and tiara's online. I tried to get him to return the tiara's, but the Mannyhose site said in bright red letters, "Dare to wear and you keep the pair!" Whatever.
I'm not, like, raising my hand in eager anticipation and I am certainly not descending from the sky, but I do feel like people are essentially good at heart and if you're that guy that nobody seems to give a chance to...I might be able to turn you into a Prince! I'm just a regular girl who can see people. REALLY see people. Now I sound like an M. Night Shamalan film. But really. Put "Save Me" in the subject line and please include all the many ways you are struggling. Bonus if you can make me cry.
My name is Justin and I am here looking for a Nubian princess to smoke some fat stacks with. I got White Widow, Matterhorn Mayhem, Sasquatch Sativ, Bigfoot's Dick, Old Man Dinglesticks, Corn Horn Kush, Dongle Prairies, Crow Bones and some Train Wreck. My perfect lady is a hippy at heart: Skirt wearing, Patchouli smelling, bra size 36L (36 long)-but doesn't wear one anyway-and can puff tough. I'm like a pretty reg stoner whose likes include: preaching love to people minding their own business on the bus, smoking weed, researching 9/11 online, complaining to the manager of Taco Time about the burritos I never received (I didn't order them either, but I don't say that) and smoking weed. I would also like to mention that I smoke weed so if that is a problem, so are we.
Do you have a visible smoke stack coming from the roof of your home? Are people often wondering where you are at gatherings only to find you walking in an hour to two hours late with no apologies? Do you wear a backpack to funerals? Can you often be found in the dumpster area of restaurants even though you don't work there? If you answered yes to all these questions than you are by far too coherent for me.
If you glazed through the whole personal ad and stopped right here cause your attention span is that of a chihuahua at a dog food swap meet than we might really be a match. FYI, I smoke weed. If that's coo, give me a shout.