This image was lost some time after publication.

Online matchmaking is just like the real world: shit happens. The Wall Street Journal points out a few failures and the new effort to perfect it — we can do it better with TECHNOLOGY — from eHarmony, True, and And the goal is always marriage.

But there among the big boys is San Fran's favorite do-it-for-the-sex dating site, Consumating (NSFW if you're lucky). I pulled founder Ben Brown over for an IMterview.

Valleywag: So. All these success stories gone wrong. How often has that happened to Consumaters?
Ben Brown: Everything we've heard has basically been, "OMG, I totally met a guy from Consumating last night, and he was hot and we did it. He lives in Brooklyn. I think he might have a blog."
Wag: Are you keeping track of these? How many bangs per profile have you logged?
Ben: We don't have accurate numbers, of course, but we speculate as many as 5 or 6 bangs per profile.
And that's just with normal use.
Our power users might expect to get more bang for the metaphorical buck.
Wag: And it's all free, right? Only cost is the loss of the potential for actually meeting people in bars?
Actually, if you started charging, would that be illegal under prostitution law?
Ben: Hardyharhar
Wag: Does anyone actually get married? Your demographic is all too hipster to settle down.
Ben: When someone from Consumating decides to walk down that path, they will notice that our silent footprints will quickly disappear.

After the jump, the law of accelerating hotties. [WSJ]

Wag: So the other sites in this WSJ story have millions of users. (Except for JDate, but its 148k users are running the world so they count triple.) You have 11 thousand. Who cares about Consumating?
Ben: 11,000 people care, Nick! And they care deeply.
Let me correct myself.
Wag: That's major growth!
Ben: That was in only 3 days.
Wag: 1% a day. You'll skyrocket to millions by Easter.
Ben: Yes, we expect total world domination in w4.
err q4.
Wag: I'll edit that. No one will know you can't type.
One last thing: admit, on the record, how you met your girlfriend.
Ben: Here's the real secret. Katie is actually my sister.
Wag: Thanks, Mr. White.
And when the world starts going at it like bunnies, we'll blame you.