Blogger Brawl

Earlier this year, I entered a blogging competition for the Mormon Times. It was a round-robin tournament where votes determined who would eventually be chosen as a guest blogger on their dating website. Obviously I wasn't selected because you would have heard about it by now. I don't really remember the criteria for entry, other than you were supposed to submit two entries on your dating experience. The following is my first entry.

And just a disclaimer. Everything written is satirical, over-exaggerated, and stereotyped.

No wonder I didn't win.



"Since arriving home from the field, my parents have done nothing but repeat my mission presidents’ orders to, “Continue your spiritual progression by getting married as soon as you can.” They have done everything on the worried parent’s list: Prayed; Fasted; Placed post-its on the mirror; Arranged meetings with general authority’s daughters; Bought a velvet ring box as a homecoming gift.

They don’t mess around. To them, “Any girl will do because there is always time to get to know them after the wedding.”

But none of their righteous intentions seem to work. I feel so pressured and am not ready to begin another mission. It’s only been eight days since I was in the best mission in the world teaching the truth. Now I’m back in Babylon, sorting through all the Jezebels, trying to find my own Marie Osmond (the new one that’s on Nutrisystem and has hair extensions). She is hott.

The search is hard. Very hard. I know that my mish service determines how hot my wife will be, but I never imagined it would take this long and be this stressful. It must be a cloudy day in heaven, because I have yet to have the windows open and blessings poured down upon me.

Last night I fell asleep praying that I would meet a BDOG (beautiful daughter of god). I woke up feeling very joyful and happy; very similar to the time when I first heard Gladys Knight sing after she had been baptized.

Life changing.

As I lay in bed, I remembered the dream from last night -

I guess you could say it was similar to that one black guy (you know, the one who gave the speech in front of that big swimming pool in D.C.)? Well I think he was a king or teacher because I always remember having a three-day weekend to worship him in high school.

Score.

So there I was in the BYU library, chatting and comparing baptisms with all my ex-mission companions, when the most beautiful BDOG enters the room. She is just my type: young, blonde, and temple-worthy. Her countenance was shining from every pore and I could literally see her testimony because of the Shade shirt and Young Women’s medallion she was wearing. I was in lust . . . I mean love.

With the ring in my pocket as my wingman, the strong RM handshake, and a little bit of the mission language accent still noticeable - I figured there was no way she was going to say no. I told her the spirit led me to ask her out and I would love to take her to the most authentic Mexican restaurant I know.

Two hours later, we were in line at Café Rio, wearing ponchos, touching elbows, and ordering in my mission language. She looked just like one of the young girls in Mexico (only more white), who always wrote me notes during sacrament meeting and would stand outside giggling when I walked by.

Those were the days.

We got the salads to go because I had planned a picnic at the park overlooking the Provo temple. We prayed in Spanish, ate with our fingers and cuddled vertically while watching the best two years on my parent’s portable DVD player.

Thanks dad; for being rich and keeping up with technology.

Just as the sun was setting, and the temple lit up, I looked her into her light of Christ filled eyes. As I smoothly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers suddenly got caught . . . in her bumpit. Both our faces went red as it fell out and rested on the ground. When I reached to pick it up, our hands touched for the first time and I felt a connection unlike any other. I think it must have been the spirit confirming our commitment to one another. I closed my eyes, leaned in 90%, just like Hitch taught me, and . . .

Just then my alarm went off. It was 6:00 am.

Scripture study time.

As I read, I realized I was finally ready for a new mission and calling: to find my future wife. The young, trendy, blonde, BYU Mormon girl with a bumpit.

This shouldn’t be that hard at BYU. Should it?"