For the past couple of years, I’ve attended Oklahoma Magazine’s Single in the City charity auction in Oklahoma City. I really like the event. There’s always a bunch of hot girls in attendance, all the proceeds benefit a great cause and I’m usually able to sneak some drinks onto my editor’s bar tab. Plus, Oklahoma Magazine lets me roast the singles on my website. When you take a break from reading The Pioneer Woman or Dooce or this column, you should check it out. While you’re there, click on some ads.

This year’s auction nearly took a turn for the worse as someone actually had the nerve to nominate me for the auction. To make matters worse, Oklahoma Magazine then asked me to be a participant. My slightly edited, three-word reply to their request was, “No Freakin’ Way.” And this is why.

Tatiana – the European fashion model I’m dating – would not be pleased. I like how the people at Oklahoma Magazine just assumed I’m single. They probably figured that was the case because I like to watch Forensic Files marathons and still play Sim City. What they forgot to consider is that I’m a local pseudo-anonymous D-list celebrity blogger. That gets me tons of phone numbers at bars or Target. In fact, I think my internet celebrity status is the only reason why Tatiana likes me so much. Or it could be Ogleville: the pollution-free, futuristic city I built in Sim City and dedicated to her.

The last time I participated in a charity singles auction, I was bought by an old lady named Phyllis. When I was 21, I participated in a charity auction to benefit some nonprofit retirement community. The lady who bid the most on me ($5.18) was named Phyllis. Our first date was kind of weird. I went over to her house and changed some light bulbs. Afterward, she invited Blanche and Doris over and we played bridge. The date ended when Phyllis fell asleep watching OETA.

I’m way too good looking. This year’s singles are very attractive, but they got nothing on me. I’ve been nominated for People’s “Sexiest Man Alive” twice (thanks, Tatiana!) and my abs are so hard and chiseled that they’ve been confused for slate (thanks again, Tatiana!).

I don’t want to make fun of myself. As I mentioned above, I usually roast the singles on my website. If I were a participant, how could I make fun of myself? That would be difficult. I’d have to write something like “Patrick’s hotter than melted milk chocolate in a fat person’s mouth,” or “Patrick’s so dashing that he rides through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh.” Plus, I’d have to explain the eye patch. That’s never fun.

Read more about Patrick’s imaginary girlfriend at

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