Corn/Corny/Corn[y]ish

1. This guy asked me if his company can publish my would-be-first-Ethiopian-Pultizer-Prize-winner-book after which I'd take leave [of my senses, thought I] to travel with him so that he can show me what a woman like me deserves from a["real", i believe, had accompanied the word] man.
2. This other guy told me he's told his momma about me and would grab the next plane to Ethiopia to change my name to Mrs. Richard Jones if only I gave him the yes.
   This third guy told me when he comes to Ethiopia in September; he'd give me one night in which he'd do all that I asked him to do. ["it's my body you want" he typed boldly "and I'd give it to you". Mmmm!].
3. This fourth guy told me he'd move back to Addis if I wear my "green dress" when he comes in November for his brother's wedding.
4. This final guy complained since his father home has told him Ethiopia is a country where you can't buy a pair of good boots unless you saved for them for 6 months, I'd have to wait for two more years to see him.
   
   And I wrote all of them, except the final guy who had the decency of sending me bars of chocolate - twice, begging them to send me Zadie Smith's latest book (The Autograph Man). Whose purchase and expense i promised to cover and take whoever comes to take the money out for lunch or dinner, depending on his/her gender.
   And none of them wrote back.
   
   Now, am I supposed to judge all men through these five from Tasmania-Aussie; Newark-USA; Seattle-USA; Somewhere-in the USA and Kipfieng-Germany [shake my fist or raise my eyes mutely up to heaven] or am I to describe my past, and the affections zereen, in three verbs: waste, wasted, wasted!
   
   *Sighs*. Maybe I should just give my exboyfriend a call. He's always said he misses what we had [what we had, he meant, in bed]. Hopefully, his wife doesn't pick his state of the art, USD 280+tax+income tax Nokia mobile.