Someone Please Date My Room Mate

My room mate's name is Mike. Mike Deenihan. He's a great guy, but unfortunately he's Irish and Polish. Which means he drinks a lot and isn't all that intelligent. But he means well.

Mikey has recently ended his relationship with Dina, a bartender and single mother 20 years his senior. It was a devastating event for Mikey and he seeks comfort in the form of a woman (or effeminate man) somewhere around his own age. The relationship ended when Dina- whom we all thought to be the future Dina Deenihan- wanted Mike to meet her 12 year old son, Kristofer. Mike isn't a fan of commitment- or children- so if you have a short attention span and an infertile uterus, you may be qualified as the flavor of the week.

Mike is a gentle man- and because his most recent ex is a geriatric Latvian woman with little English and a pubescent son to care for- you know he is a patient and accommodating lover. Our walls are paper thin and I've heard him making love. He sounds perfectly mediocre in bed. And he cries afterward, so you know he is sensitive.

Mike is a man of few words... in fact, he has a handful of catch phrases and trying to get him to speak outside of these well-rehearsed phrases is like leading a stubborn horse to the edge of a volcano. Which is for the better. Women don't like men with ideas and the means to express them.

Mike's hobbies include drinking beer and the occasional whiskey and coke.


Playing wii games (poorly).

And passing out at the kitchen table.

(and on the couch).



Mike really needs a girlfriend right now because his life as a short order cook in a bar will not be complete until he has a higher-functioning primate to help his development along. He has a very unfortunate condition of not being able to think properly without outside sources present. He once traveled 2 hours from home for a weekend visit to his friend, but forgot to bring pants. He also got lost while drunk that weekend... and followed a rabbit home. Admittedly, I am guilty of this as well, but we aren't here to talk about me.

If there's a charitable and lonely woman (or effeminate man) out there who is willing to take on the short term responsibility of what is essentially a half-retarded commitment-phobe, please respond to this post.

I will bill you for the emotional connection fee. It's so small you will hardly notice.
Coincidentally, so is Mike's penis.