So, months ago ago I swore off dating. I have no interest in it. But occasionally I meet people and have been TRYING to be more open minded and make a slight effort to get to know people who I normally wouldn't. This being said, I realize nobody is perfect and meeting the perfect person I've created in my head does not exist, so I have to be willing to overlook some criteria I may have previously set. BUT...
I'm sorry, but if you can't spell, I'm not going to fuck you. In the off chance I get knocked up, I will NOT let you contaminate my superior gene pool (or jean pool as someone I recently met prob would have said). I don't care how attractive you are (which he's not). If you talk about how you "waisted" your day or would love to drink "whine" on your "rap-around" porch, I'm sorry. I will be be the first to call myself out on shitty typing and admit that I don't proofread, but there's a difference. You're clearly stupid. I'm not. I can't do it. I'm out.
Also, I met a super cute, ambitious, and successful guy. Gave him my number. I did some creeping to find out he is also a very staunch conservative and religious guy has a blog dedicated about how my lives for Him. He also created a little logo that represents trying to work for the greater good and to be a man of God. He now proudly sports this logo as a big ass tattoo on his beautifully sculpted arm.
As disgusted as I was about this, I decided to let it go because he was attractive and a good person. Maybe I have just become too slanderous, jaded and spiteful towards the human race (especially people less awesome as us in this house). Through more convos, I come to find that Jesus Christ Superstar has a cat (on purpose) and had just traded in his Lexus for fucking Mustang. Douche. Aaaand, he loves Disney. First of all, it's maybe fun to go, get drunk and ride the Small World boat ride like once ever ten years. He goes two-three times a year with his family. I hate commercial bullshit. He them came home proudly sporting an overpriced Mickey Mouse watch. And wore it. In public.
This shit ended. STAT. There are just some things I should not have to accept into my life. I loathe adult who wear Disney shit. I'm sorry. If you wear anything with a cartoon on it (Pooh, Tweety or Micky), I will make fun of you mercilessly. And probably give you the extension to QVC's china doll department.
I'm sorry, but if you can't spell, I'm not going to fuck you. In the off chance I get knocked up, I will NOT let you contaminate my superior gene pool (or jean pool as someone I recently met prob would have said). I don't care how attractive you are (which he's not). If you talk about how you "waisted" your day or would love to drink "whine" on your "rap-around" porch, I'm sorry. I will be be the first to call myself out on shitty typing and admit that I don't proofread, but there's a difference. You're clearly stupid. I'm not. I can't do it. I'm out.
Also, I met a super cute, ambitious, and successful guy. Gave him my number. I did some creeping to find out he is also a very staunch conservative and religious guy has a blog dedicated about how my lives for Him. He also created a little logo that represents trying to work for the greater good and to be a man of God. He now proudly sports this logo as a big ass tattoo on his beautifully sculpted arm.
As disgusted as I was about this, I decided to let it go because he was attractive and a good person. Maybe I have just become too slanderous, jaded and spiteful towards the human race (especially people less awesome as us in this house). Through more convos, I come to find that Jesus Christ Superstar has a cat (on purpose) and had just traded in his Lexus for fucking Mustang. Douche. Aaaand, he loves Disney. First of all, it's maybe fun to go, get drunk and ride the Small World boat ride like once ever ten years. He goes two-three times a year with his family. I hate commercial bullshit. He them came home proudly sporting an overpriced Mickey Mouse watch. And wore it. In public.
This shit ended. STAT. There are just some things I should not have to accept into my life. I loathe adult who wear Disney shit. I'm sorry. If you wear anything with a cartoon on it (Pooh, Tweety or Micky), I will make fun of you mercilessly. And probably give you the extension to QVC's china doll department.
