I'm back bitches!!

Hey dudes! I'm back.

I know you were holding your breath for some time. So, sorry... but not really, 'cause I had a lot of other shit going on and so did you.

Alright, let's see what's in CreeperSanta's grab bag for you today:

A solid blind date story for starters! This one involves entering and winning a contest for the prizes (great head-to-toe makeover and dinner/drinks on Valentines day). I tried to get 'randomly' matched with my gay best friend (to no avail), but instead ended up getting paired with a dude who turned out to be very nice and chivalrous, and more a self-proclaimed "Chatty Kathy" than the Craiglist Killer - as mom so optimistically predicted he may turn out to be.

The second dinner, however, was when the real fun started. That's when, oh let's call him Andy, began to ceaselessly reference his co-workers anal play.

You heard me.

For a solid hour, Ol' Chatty Andy here decides to regale me with the second-hand account of his colleague's full-fist encounter! Naturally I couldn't resist volleying my fair share of funnies along those lines (how could I resist?), though he was more than happy to continue incorporating explicit anus references throughout rest of the night, even as far as my driveway.

At that point I gave him a loose passenger-seat-pity-hug-pat-on-back combo, 'jokingly' told him to go home and spryly hopped from the near moving vehicle.

Note to self (and you): Save anal refs for later on. You know. Like the third date... or never... or when you have explicit confirmation that your date is looking for that kind of action (i.e. when you pay for it or if you found each other on ManHunt.com).


Alright, onwards and uh, upwards.

Check out this awesome asshole! Damn it. Ha, sorry, no more anal talk.

Keeper! Pepaw's got moves and some decent taste in beats! (A thousand thaaannnkth to iZak for the heads up on this one)!


Also, take a second for Honey Badger, even though Honey Badger don't give a shit.

And, if you're still in the mood for entertainment, take a sharp left turn and check out Kingsley Division covering the old jazz standard/Ella Fitzgerald tune, Angel Eyes.

Keeper!

Or, maybe in honor of #CharlieSheenIsOutOfHisFuckingMindMonth, we'll call today's trio #Winners. #Bi-Winners to be more precise.


kbye for now.

He's Mr. Blowup, He Pops Out Of Balls!

Fetishes run the gamut of human creativity. I don't really get this one, granted I don't "get" most of them. My expert analytical skills, however, lead me to conclude that Mr. and Mrs. Blowup are experiencing, oh let's call it, Womb Nostalgia.

Mr. Blowup naturally conjures Mr. Bucket imagery. Let's revisit. Oh, and I looked up the lyrics for greater insight (see below). I'm sure Mr. Blowup strings together some choice phrasing of his own during his alone time.

"I'm Mr. Bucket, toss your balls in my top

I'm Mr. Bucket, out of my mouth they will pop

I'm Mr. Bucket, we're all gonna run

I'm Mr. Bucket, buckets of fun!

I'm Mr. Bucket, balls pop out of my mouth

I'm Mr. Bucket, a ball is what I'm about

I'm Mr. Bucket, we're all gonna run

I'm Mr. Bucket, buckets of fun!"

Wow! Creepers!

Kudos to iZak for the tip!

Keeper or Creeper?

Here at Keeper or Creeper, we as a community can venture to understand the true nature of the people hoping to enter our lives. Those who strive to be part of our inner circles cannot always make the cut, and sometimes it is a fine line that separates the Keepers and Creepers!

Found a new potential partner? Did they act in a way that was off-putting, awkward, unsettling or suggestive of underlying sociopathic tendancies? Well then, why not let friends and strangers weigh in? Hah, that's always a good idea, right?

Let's find out!

Let me know about your charming or awkward encounters en route to finding stable love! Let us debrief and over-analyze until there is no doubt as to the Keeper/Creeper status of the individual in question. And who knows, maybe one person's Creeper is anothers Keeper!

Bon voyage!

-L