Height: 5' 7" (170 cm) maximum
Does such a woman exist anywhere in the world?
(1) The first reaction was from a young male friend who wondered whether I really have to be so specific about my sexual desiderata.
-- Of course I have to be specific. Would you buy a car for a long and dangerous journey without knowing what's under the hood or how she handles? After all, you are whom you eat and what you drive.
(2) A lady thought I was "too picky."
-- Picky, shmicky! I'm just realistic and optimistic.
(3) Another lady wrote: "I'm happily married with two very dependent children. It's pretty funny though, with the above exceptions, I thought that I fit the description of your 'ideal woman' pretty well."
-- Oh, that cursèd Fate again! Why are the best ones always married?
(4) "I checked out your Ideal Woman page. Now, that's a joke about the pubic hair, right? You could be ruling out many fine specimens with that one," another lady wrote.
-- No joke. I'm a visual æsthete. Just picture this divine view: a clean, glistening pink vulva, surrounded by pale thighs and abdomen, and crowned with a black bush -- yum-yum! But I am flexible as to color. (I have to be.)
(5) From a lady: "I also fit the description of your Ideal Woman. One question though, how could breast size be unimportant?"
-- Fate, God, Mother Nature or whatever must really hate my guts for creating such rare goddesses but then making them off-limits through husbands. Oh, the pain! What have I done to deserve such cruel punishment?
As to breast size, I wasn't raised in this uniquely mammomaniacal (tit-crazy) country with its infantile breast fixation. Just what is the big deal about huge hooters? They look udderly ridiculous (but can be pressed into service for intermammary activities). To me, any breast more than a mouthful is adorable. It's the erogenous and visually appealing nipple and areola that count; the rest is mainly superfluous fatty tissue.
(6) Excerpts from a lady's e-mail: "I am not your Ideal Woman, mainly owing to the fact that I am a redhead with blue eyes! I think one of the reasons you do not get a response on the Ideal Woman page is because one is not told what you are like, so why should one communicate any interest that may go nowhere? What if you looked like a gorilla and were short and fat? Knowing that could be a possibility, why bother to correspond? It seems they [site visitors] only look and go away without responding. Give them a little encouragement. Besides, I wonder the same thing myself. I'm sure you don't look like a gorilla, but I think things like, "How old is that man? What does he have his degree in? If he's that nasty (irreverent?) in his writings, what is he like in person? Would he be safe to be seen with in public?" etc. You get the drift. So write to tell me who the hell you really are."
-- Oy, and they call me picky! Madame, you have raised valuable points but you have not spent enough time on this Web site. I know it's extensive, and you're busy, but if you had read just the obvious page ("Editor" or "Aman"), most of your questions would have been answered: my age, education, possibly gorillian features (photos), and more. Personal information is subtly scattered throughout the site, instead of as a list. If you seek, you shall find almost everything about me except the diameter of my right testicle. (All right, since you insist: it's 48 mm. Don't know the metric system? Tough titties.)
Also, the astute reader can use deductive reasoning when studying the "Ideal Woman" page to arrive at unstated details. For instance, as I prefer my goddess to be at the most 5-foot-7 tall, you can assume that I'm 5'7" short. In "Updates" and elsewhere I state my exact age and birthday (from which you know that I'm an Aries). And a look at the "Forgotten Felines" page will give you some indication as to whether I'm totally nasty or have redeeming qualities. -- What puzzles me is this: What do you have against short and fat gorillas?
(7) A male American of Chinese background now living in Japan analyzed the specifications of my "Ideal Woman" and asked wittily:
"Do you have a minimum height requirement, e.g., shorter than 4 '; must have flat cranial roof on which to rest your beer...?"
-- No minimum. I don't drink, but if a very short woman should get drunk as a skunk, I could easily carry her home like a bowling ball.
"How about minimum weight requirements? Would you go for an anorexic little child-like woman? There are so many of those here."
-- Well, there's one good thing about such a woman: I wouldn't have to roll her in flour and look for the moist spot.
"Do you have a minimum age? Or do you believe in 'Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed'?"
-- As Joseph Smith said, "Brigham, but Brigham Young!" Visually, young bodies are very appealing, but I have never met a woman under 25 with whom I could carry on the required post-coital chitchat. I don't read People magazine, watch little television and no MTV, don't go to movies or hang out in malls -- so what could I talk about with a smooth-skinned, cellulite-free, succulent Lolita?
"Race: unimportant. No preferences at all?"
-- No. The last dreamboat (unembarked, alas) probably was 1/2 Caucasian, 1/4 Negro and 1/4 Chinese -- sort of a female Tiger Woods, but dazzlingly beautiful (and smart!).
"Religion: unimportant, but no fanatic ... and preferably a fanatic-free family as well, yes? Don't want the offended, homicidal brother and father tracking you down, yes?"
-- Of course not. I'm not going to move to a Moslem country or to Sicily where family honor is a big deal. The fewer in-laws, the better, as most of them suck.
"Education: unimportant. Really?"
-- Really. As a rule (and there are many exceptions, I know), the higher the woman's education, the bitchier she is. Most of my friends and acquaintances don't have a Master's or Ph.D. degree but are "simple" people.
"Financial Status: unimportant: don't want a new Maledicta wing on the New York Public Library, eh?"
-- Sir, I'm not a gigolo! I'm not for sale for any price. Of course, if the Ideal Woman had huge assets to buy me a new Macintosh and an old barn in the country where I could move to with my cats, it wouldn't hurt. In that case, I might even accept such shortcomings as blue eyes and blonde pubic hair. (Am I flexible, or what?)
"Dependent Children: do you have any children? How about independent children ... someone needs to carry on with Maledicta when you are gone (after a very long, full life, inshallah)."
-- I have one daughter with zero interest in MAL. (Still better than ex/bitch Shirley who despised MAL and was ashamed of being associated with it.) I'm afraid when I hit Worm City, that's the end of Maledicta. [Note to Scottish scientists: Stop farting around with sheep! Clone me, so Maledicta can continue.]
"Face: no 'moon-faced' southern Chinese?"
-- No way! Not even someone with Jackie Bovine Onanassis's broad face and wide-set cow eyes. (She did marry a short and fat gorilla, for a fee. A big fee. $40 million.)
"Pubic Hair: how about density ... a concern, given your implied devotion to cunnilingus?"
-- I don't care about density, basically. A hairless beaver is too pædophilic, though. But if she's a Negress with a Brillo-pad bush, I can always wear goggles for eye protection.
"Cooking Skills: while not a necessity, a good cook is a definite advantage in my opinion."
-- If she can open a can and warm up the contents -- good enough. Nuke frozen food in the microwave -- good enough. I'm not a gourmand (food-wise) and consider eating (food, that is) a waste of time. It's just fuel to keep the body going. After some 40 years of subsisting on fish-sticks, fried herring, kipper sandwiches, liverwurst sandwiches, Spam, tacos, burritos, enchiladas, submarine sandwiches, hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken chow mein, spaghetti with meatballs, ravioli, Spanish rice, fried eggs, pancakes, yoghurt, potato soup, chicken and noodle soup, and Arby's roast beef -- especially the last decade -- I crave Bavarian dumplings with roast pork, Bavarian Dampfnudel with vanilla sauce, and Hungarian goulash with Swabian Spätzle. Man, if she can cook the last three dishes, I wouldn't care if she didn't even know the location of her clitoral hood or the singular of "labia minora"!
"Interests: language(s), cultures, wit & humor, computers, classical music & films, art, reference books, publishing, typesetting: you seem to want a modern librarian ... this is one of my fantasies. Tight tweed suit with glasses on a chain and hair in a bun. Black hose with that line running up the back onto the thigh as she leans over the card catalog drawer. Wow!"
-- Do you mind? This is my fantasy woman, so kindly bug off.
"Traits Wanted: how about being organized and a good money manager?
-- To be organized without being compulsive goes without saying. As I have no money, I don't need anyone to manage that filthy stuff.
"Sex: how about: must be happy with her body and willing to initiate sex from time to time."
-- The first point is indeed desirable, because many a physically perfect or near-perfect woman still finds something to whine about -- her thighs, butt, breasts, or hair. And God forbid she should get a pimple on her face: a major catastrophe and endless "I feel so ugly. Do you still love me?" (The correct way to handle such a situation is to soothe her fragile ego with, "Of course I still love you, my sweet little pizza-face! Now, please fuck off and lemme figure out why this goddamn modem doesn't work.")
-- As to point two, what do you mean "from time to time" only? Toujours l'amour! (Except when I'm busy.)
(8) Comment by a male doctor: "I have timed the heart rate on your Ideal Woman page at 104 beats/minute. Not only is that morbidly high, but the beat is irregular! It's a good thing you have two of them."
-- Well, Herr Doktor, that's what some women do not only to animated gifs but to my heart as well. Thank God for Verapamil®, which you helped develop.
(9) A Sicilian-American lady wrote: "How do you like women with hairy armpits?"
-- They are cool. Luckily, there are still countries where the women have not adopted the silly American fad of shaving their armpits. Hairy armpits are wonderful, visually: When a woman lies on her back with her arms spread, those hirsute armpits look like two spare beavers.
(10) "There are other physical attributes you have not specified, such as teeth," wrote another lady.
-- True, there are other deviations from the norm that turn me off, but I can't be too picky initially. For example, she may be the Ideal Woman in every other way, but if she has rotten teeth or incisors like Eleanor Roosevelt, I would be bothered. Those beaver-teeth are murder on one's foreskin, you know.
-- Hands and fingers are important, too. I like long, artistic hands and fingers and am turned off by fat, stubby, knobby peasant fingers. (I told you I'm an æsthete.)
-- Not only the voice but also the laughter is important. The worst, most annoying, idiotic laugh I've heard in my life is that of Steve Allen's wife, Jayne Meadows. Only the older generation remembers her from her TV days. Christ, every time she assaulted my eardrums with her indescribably irritating laugh, I was ready to choke her.
(11) A lady wrote: "You have no requirements for loyal, faithful, dependable, and supportive."
-- Good point. Come to think of it, except for faithful in the sexual sense, my dearly belovèd ex was neither dependable nor loyal nor supportive during the 30 years of our marriage. To have a partner with such positive character traits would be a welcomed change.
(12) "I'm ideal-woman-material except for 10 extra pounds and a boyfriend," a lady wrote.
-- Ten extra pounds are no problem. To show my flexibility, I didn't specify on purpose whether the 150-pound maximum weight limit is metric or U.S. Since 165.35 U.S. lbs. equal 150 metric lbs., you're well below the max. I just want to avoid the 300-pound Rubenesque kind that nearly cracked my rib cage while sitting on my chest ... 'nuff said. -- As for boyfriend, well, that is a problem but, hey, boyfriends come and go.
(13) Uncle Mal almost found the Ideal Woman...
Verbatim from "Webpersonals": SAN FRANCISCO - BEAUTY BY THE BAY! Beauty seeking Handsome Prince to spend some quaility time with. If you enjoy quiet dinners, long walks on the beach, slow music, and cuddles -YOU ARE THE ONE! I'm 5'10, long black hair, grey eyes, slim yet athelic, and a very open mined woman. I'm very independent, secure and comfortable with myself, and I'm looking for a gentleman that feels the same about himself.
-- Oops! There are few things as annoying as an athelic, open mined woman who demands quaility time but can't spell. Romance over. Damn.
(14) Another lady: "I began reading your Ideal Woman list and was buoyed by your lack of hang-ups on particular characteristics (e.g., Wanted: SWF, looks like Vanna White, always wins at Jeopardy, drinks only Mai Tais, worships Mexican food). But then you began to lose me. Are you looking for a dark-haired woman because you fell victim to the myth about blondes? (I come pretty close to your other characteristics but, alas, am not raven-headed.)"
-- I'm happy to know that I was able to buoy this lady -- godnose, I haven't buoyed a woman in years! My "dark-haired" criterion is not based on any anti-blonde myth; after all, there are as many dizzy redheads as there are dizzy brunettes, dizzy blondes, and dizzy raven-haired women. I do like dark pubic hair more than lighter hair, for the æsthetic visual contrast of dark hair and surrounding light skin. It's not some perversion -- hey, I'm just an æsthete!
I understand that there are blondes with dark beavers; in such cases, the pubic hair overrules the public hair. It's strange how this hair-color criterion really bothers some blonde women, who feel rejected or not good enough, and who have told me so. Hair color is the least important aspect in a relationship; there are worse things to turn me off. And don't forget, my criteria are utopian. In real life I'm fairly flexible and not as picky as I sound on this page.
(15) "Well, I do fit your description of your ideal woman. I am exotic looking, I am actually 5'6", I have light brown/actually honey colored eyes, light complexion, slim body with a little thickness (138 lbs.), I have an oval face with soft features, plump lips, wide almond shaped eyes, good nose... I am a mixture of El Salvadorean, Dutch, and Irish. I am only 20 .................. but I hate cats, and I am happily married with a beautiful baby girl."
-- Great. That's all I need, another succulent dick-teaser. Sorry, young lady, because you hate cats, I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot Nicaraguan. Next!
(16) "I saw your 'Ideal Woman' page and am happy that I fit most of your requirements. There are only two things: I 'hate' cats, because they are too obstinate for me, and I think I'm too young for you (20). On the positive side: I'm single, love sex, smoke, live in Holland (and therefore greatly value free speech), am not religious, and am a mixture of Dutch, Indonesian, African, and Chinese. I was born in South America, love linguistics and speak five languages."
-- Oh, dear God! Yet another succulent dreamboat who hates cats. You women are supposed to love cats, because they are as mysterious, independent and fickle as you are. But once you get to know a cat and gain her confidence, she'll love you much more intensely than a submissive dog could. Let's make a deal, my Polyglot Poesje: you'll be sweet to my pussies, and I'll be sweet to yours. -- As to your tender age: no problem. You are intelligent, sound mature, and are self-confident. Right up my alley. (Oops! I just drooled on my keyboard.)
(17) E-mail from Kathy Mingo (in > bold):
Hello, Ms Mingo,
Did you know that in Latin "mingo" means "I piss"? Honestly.
> I am your ideal woman.....But I'm a lesbian......
That's YOUR problem, dear.
> HA HA HA....your old fat bald get!!!!!!
Wrong, rug-muncher. I'm neither bald nor fat. How are you, weight-wise? 250 pounds?
> By the way proper cunnilingus takes WAY longer
> than 15 mins pencil dick!!
Not if you do it right. Your tonguing lezzy friends don't even know how to properly eat pussy. I could teach them a lesson or two.
By the way, there should be a comma between "mins" and "pencil dick." And speaking of which, my dick doesn't resemble a pencil but looks like a delicious Bavarian bratwurst.
Now go play with your vibrator and fantasize about my delicious dick.