eHarmony Founder Looking to Spend $10 Million to Crack the Gay Code

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You know how gay people can’t join eHarmony? Oh, well, I say; we have literally every other dating site (plus a few of our own). But the creators of eHarmony (namely founder Neil Clark Warren, or the seemingly friendly old guy in those commercials) retalliated by creating an LGBT version of eHarmony called Compatible Partners. You see, dudes who like dudes and ladies who like ladies go about everything in a totally different way than normal straight people. Like, for example, gay men just start screwing each other immediately until they get bored after about three weeks, and lesbians pick up U-Hauls on the second date. That’s the kind of thinking, I guess, that is happening at the eHarmony board meetings, and now Warren thinks the company should spend a ton of money to figure out this whole gay business once and for all.

In a video interview with Yahoo Finance web series Off The Cuff (via Beta Beat), Warren goes into detail about what "damaged" his matchmaking company: the same-sex marriage issue. "I’m tired of it," he says. Warren continues, claiming that Christian users were so angry when Compatible Partners was launched (at the behest of the New Jersey attorney general, by the way, who found that eHarmony was discriminating against LGBT users) that the company "literally had to hire guards to protect our lives." (Oh, those Christians! So loving. So compassionate.) 

How can he, the grand master of online dating, fix this problem? Well:

I have said that eHarmony really ought to put up $10 million and ask other companies to put up money and do a really first class job of figuring out homosexuality. At the very best, it’s been a painful way for a lot of people to have to live. But at this point, at this age, I want America to start drawing together. I want it to be more harmonious.

Here’s a suggestion: stop being dicks, for one, and also pull your heads out of your asses and recognize that people who identify as one of the convenient letters that the mainstream press likes to throw around in an effort to be inclusive just want to be included. Because, honestly, people like me have the same desires that straight people have, and the fact that it’s 2013 and I have to type that out for anyone is something that consistently blows my mind. It’s not rocket science! It’s not even math, which is probably why the people who create online dating sites (which match you up based entirely on how one answer questions and curated cultural interests and not because of, say, mutual attraction) have such a hard time seeing it as a fact. 

And while we’re on the subject of eHarmony: the company’s self-reported statistics include claims like the following:

Every day in America, 542 people marry after meeting on eHarmony.com — according to the online dating website. That’s 5 percent of all new U.S. marriages. On average, there’s an eHarmony wedding every 2.65 minutes, the company claims.

How the hell does that work? I mean, really: think about it, folks. Is the point of a dating website—any dating website, from eHarmony to Match.com and OKCupid—to get you out of the singles game and into a long, lasting relationship? Or is the whole point of an online dating website to make money on its users who eventually return to said site to dip their toes back into the dating pool? It seems like a lot of dating sites haven’t figured out straight match-ups, so I don’t think we need to rack our brains too hard when it comes to finding out how to set up two gay guys or—gasp!—someone who falls under the T category. (But I’m pretty sure there aren’t too many people worried about catering to what seems like a small percentage of the population, right?)

But hey, if they wanna pass $10 million my way for a quick consultation on how to treat gay people with respect and tact, they should totally get in touch.

Follow Tyler Coates on Twitter.

OKCupid Is Totally Not Cool With Kids in Trench Coats Posing as Adults

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How does one get himself banned from OKCupid? Well, hopefully harassment would count as an offense. Or, like, evil murder stuff. Another way of getting kicked off, apparently, is having a hilarious profile in which you make it seem that you might actually be two kids in a long trench coat posing as an adult even though you make it VERY CLEAR that you are not two kids in a long trench coat posing as an adult. Every day is a school day! I’ll get back to you in a few days to see if two puppets in a long trench coat posing as an adult human might get you banned from OKCupid.

Follow Tyler Coates on Twitter.

Let’s Talk About Bang With Friends

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Do you harbor lustful feelings for acquaintances that you are too afraid or perpetually drunk to properly articulate? Maybe you’re a “nice guy” who wants another semi-accepted outlet for stalking and creepy libidinous frustration? Are you literally too lazy for goddamn OkCupid? Have we got the app for you.

Bang With Friends’ premise is simple: you’re in your twenties and have no idea how to tell someone you want to see their genitals up close. Along come some, er, coders who filch a program that most colleges come up with at some point—check off whom you’re interested in banging from a master list (in this case, among your Facebook friends) and the objects of your desire will do the same (not really; they’re actually out having sex already). If there’s mutual interest, you’re both notified.

Then you Skype naked, I guess, since you’ve got such a problem with real human contact. Anyway, bam! With feature(s) that useless, Bang With Friends is registering five wholly undesirable users every minute! That’s a lot of secret admirers begging to be secretly admired in turn. Man, so many venture capitalists are gonna get burned on this one.    

Follow Miles Klee on Twitter

Your Chance To Choose The Ultimate Authority On Brooklyn Sex

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Do you read a lot of sex columnists? Of course not! As an adult, you have probably set parameters on how and when and why to have sex, if not exactly whom to have it with. Therefore the not-microscopic sex column industry can be fairly reduced to: “here’s a story about some sex had, with someone who didn’t know any better; extrapolate from this what you will.” The L Magazine understands this perfectly.

Hence their three finalists for a permanent(?) position as “sex writer,” which will be chosen by reader votes—could hiring practices get any lazier? They caution that this person will not be an advice columnist, as anyone writing a sex column is by definition a terrible source of advice, but “someone who will write about the harrowing search for love and sex in Brooklyn. Mainly sex, to be honest.” Honesty, by all means! EXPOSE THE PRACTICE OF SEX FOR THE RAW AND JUICY PHENOMENON THAT IT IS.

The three lucky contenders for this blood-curdling post are Lacy Warner, Aiden Arata, and Marie Calloway, whose sample pieces are titled, respectively, “Sex with a Brogi,” “‘Are You My Girlfriend? Can I Tie You Up?’” and “In Which I Meet an OkCupid Dom.” All supremely enlightening on the topic of outer-borough intercourse, I’ve no doubt. So get over there and cast your ballot. Those of us in Manhattan will be here trying to figure out which hole the penis goes in.

Follow Miles Klee on Twitter

Single in the City: Looking for Love at an Open Bar

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I am a 26-year-old single woman living in New York City. Do you find that hard to believe? I sure do, but it’s pretty much my daily battle. The truth of the matter is that I have spent the greater part of the last year and half completely immersed in my job, and often times I have used work as an excuse for not fully living and being open to the possibilities of my own life.

I consider myself a fairly outgoing person, always down for a hang-out sesh with friends and never really having any expectations for a night out on the town. I like to toss back a couple brews; I don’t get wasted and know my limits. When I do go out, however, I usually end up in a circle with my ladies talking ridiculousness or busting out my best dance moves. Do guys like this? Do guys find breaking through the girl power-wall completely intimidating and not worth it? Am I just subconsciously resisting love out of fear? Ugh, probably.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated. It was just last summer that I dated the wrong person. (Excuse me while I let the reality set in that it’s been almost a year since I was last flung.) I let my guard down and disappointment hit me in the face on the eve of Hurricane Irene. The first person I really liked in nearly two years blinded me with his cheap charisma, believable excuses, and apologetic manner. I call bullshit on those who, in an age when we eat, shit, and sleep with our phones, deems it appropriate not to text or call back in a timely fashion or even at all. It’s just not OK! No one likes this!

I tried the OKCupid thing: I never messaged anyone, never went on any dates. I just sat back with a bowl of popcorn, a glass of wine, and scoured the site for at least one cute guy. This took hours. Eventually I deleted my profile because I got tired of waking up alone with wine mouth. It wasn’t for me, nor was it serving me in the way that it probably should have—which may have been my own fault. (Whatever. I was resisting. Fine.) If OKCupid shot an arrow in your direction, then great, good for you! I mean it, and you probably deserve it.

I am done. In an effort to be confident and not the guarded human I tend to be. I have decided to stop living in a fantasy land, envisioning the perfect romance, and instead become an active participant in my own life. Shit isn’t always just magically going to happen; I have to make an effort to put the work in to make it happen and live the life I know I deserve.

Thursday night my heart and I stepped on over to Flavorpill’s “The Rules of Attraction” party held at Above Allen at the Thompson LES. Upon my arrival I noticed a gigantic line—a gigantic line of CHICKS. I made my way to the back of the line of babes and waited. If you really want to annoy the shit out of me, force me to stand in a line only for the anticipation that the coolest thing ever is just beyond the velvet rope. My friend Janira was beyond late, and I was beginning to realize that I was probably going to have to head into this party solo. I was about two seconds from peacing out, but I forced myself to stay. I had to at least give myself the chance to be open and see what this party was all about.

When I finally got inside (solo), I quickly (and I mean quickly) realized this was not my scene at all. I looked over to the bar, which was swamped with the masses, who were guzzling a little liquid courage courtesy of Tito’s Vodka. As I was waiting to consume a vodka cranberry like it was 2004, I overheard the two dudes behind me exchange these words: “ I am quickly losing interest.” “Free booze and an excuse to be social?” “I guess.” I could tell these guys were likely in the same boat as me, but at least they had each other. Did I talk to them? No, of course not. Thirty minutes later I finally got my drink (which, I am convinced, had no alcohol in it), and I made my way around the crowded party, still on my own. I decided to people watch since it was evident I was not going to talk to anyone. Here are some notes I jotted down during this time.

  • Girl wearing shirt that says “THE FLIRT EXPRESS.”
  • Girls seem like they are dancing for attention and so far no guy in a suit has even looked in my direction.
  • 7:56 pm: cool, I just dropped gum everywhere.
  • Girl eating Cheetos out of the bag—classy.

I texted Janira to find out her whereabouts and warned her that the chances of her getting in were slim. Since she wasn’t missing much I said I would meet her and run to the nearest spot away from this party. Before I left, “Last Dance” came on the sound system (RIP Donna Summer!) This got everyone singing and dancing in typical deceased music icon fashion; it was then, of course, followed up by some Whitney. I mean, don’t we all just wanna dance with somebody? Yes. Yes we do.

Now, I know this was suppose to be an effort in me being “open” and “experiencing,” but I know what I want, and I can’t force fun and conversation if it’s just not there. I left the fluff for those who looked like they may actually be having a good time and met Janira, who had arrived with four lady friends I’d never met. I reassured them that they weren’t missing out on anything going on inside that couldn’t be found outside, to which they were almost relieved because they didn’t have to force being anything other than themselves. Janira’s friend told us of a gallery opening she’d heard about happening in the neighborhood. This was what I was looking for: spontaneous, unexpected fun.

While I didn’t meet the love of my life last night, I was open to just being out and living in this city that has so much to offer. Sometimes you don’t have to put yourself in a situation where there is an expectation of what is supposed to happen. While I know this all has a Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed tone, I am begging you: if you have someone awesome and are just scared to fully commit out of fear I ask you to rethink, to live in the now, because the future may just be right in front of you.

I am single, yes. I know what I want, and I wont apologize or trick my heart to think otherwise. I want a man who doesn’t care if I pair leopard print with sparkles, someone who laughs at my jokes and understands that I don’t take things too seriously. Above all else a man who treats me with a little respect, some dignity, and is uninterested in playing games. I know you’re out there, I am ready, I promise I wont resist!

When I got home I did what any respectable woman would do: I took out the garbage (insert metaphor here) and made a gigantic bowl of popcorn.

[Photo: Lorenna Gomez-Sanchez]