Single and ready to mingle

If you've been anywhere near a TV for the last 6 months, it seems like 6 years, you've been subjected to the spots for Asiandate.com and Anastasiadate.com.

They run the two spots back to back and the music for the Russian dating site is an earworm more insidious than any commie subterfuge Senator McCarthy might have dreamed up in 1956.

I haven't dated for a long time. And I can't say I miss it. All those gold digging women trying to snatch my fortune by running their hands through my thinning hairline. Or calling me at all hours of the night in search of some kinky fetishized pleasure.

It got so tiresome.

But if I were a dating man I know I'd steer clear of these two services.

We once had a neighbor who I am glad no longer lives near us. He sold guns out of his garage. He was a fat, drunken slob.

His wife was not. She was Asian. Thin, attractive and considerably younger.

If I had to guess, and I'm more than willing to, they didn't meet at a party. Or a blind date. They met via one of these cleverly disguised mail order bride sites.

From what I could hear a few doors down the street, there wasn't a lot of that Asian serenity promised in the commercial. There was loud fighting. And on those occasions when I would wake up early to go for a pre-sunrise morning run, I would often him hiding in the driveway, behind his van, downing a Tallboy of beer from a brown paper bag so she couldn't see him. Though you could smell him from Pacoima.

She was a bonafide Dragon Lady and I'm sure he was on the phone quite often with Customer Service inquiring about a refund.

Similarly I can't imagine hooking up with a money-for-marriage woman fresh off the boat from Stalingrad or Smolensk. Maybe it's just my imagination running wild, but I have to believe many of these comrades are tied to the Russian Mafia, the worst mafia of all the Mafias.

Before you know it I'd be sending 4 digit moneygrams back to Moscow or find myself sleeping with the creamed herring.

No thank you.

And even if that weren't the case, I can't see myself with any woman who could drink me under the table.

Or beat me at arm wrestling.

In case you're still wondering about that earworm, listen at your own risk.