Saturday, August 25, 2007

An Entry On Romance
or
Mr. Wrong


I wanted to take a brief moment to just bitch and moan a bit as bloggers, livejournalers, and economically stagnant overbearing toddler-men in their mid-20s are wont to do.
You see, its no small secret that, not only am I absolutely and strikingly gorgeous, but I also am remarkably intelligent, shockingly charming, and amazing in bed.

Now I've no trouble getting dates, catcalls, and late night homeless handjobs, but there is one PARTICULAR boy...THE CURRENT IT BOY...who alludes me.

You see, we've hung out but once or thrice, and its been romantic and amazing, but--like a wise man once said--"you're such a wonderful person...but you've got problems....

He's got an ex he's got a major hang up about for one thing...

I just don't know how to go about with the entire concept of romance. Here I thought it was really all about having another person around to praise me unequivocally. Sure he fulfills that need somewhat ("you're the cutest boy I've ever seen" "you have the most amazing eyes" "what love handles?") but its not enough when I'm sitting alone on a Thursday night typing this and he's logging on and off AOL Instant Messenger not saying a word to me.

...and he's taking medication.

How can we tell someone isn't into us? Or alternatively if they're SO into us that it frightens them and they have to retreat on sight? How should I react to all this? I'm beginning to think we don't have a clue.

He also can't read.

I think a person I'm dating like I think of property, they're both mine, and the person should only be so honored. You can imagine how tricky it is to call this boy out on dates as one never calls property to hang out on a Saturday night. "Hello house? I was hoping you'd be around this weekend so I can sit in you. Tell bed to get ready too." I mean property should just BE there shouldn't it?

He's got several STDs as well.

Eventually, do I want a husband? Do I want a picket fence and a house on a hill somewhere? Would I like my overbearing and dying mother living on a wooden perpetually rockin' rocking chair in the attic of our house?
No! I hardly think I should be alarming him with nightmare visions of immediate monogamy.

...he's also missing an arm.

Wow, hey, I talked myself out of it! Good talk, good talk!

6 comments:

bagel said...

Horray for no more losers!

Lysiane said...

Dude, are you seriously serious ?!

Deviant said...

I might have embellished the number of STDs he had.

Lysiane said...

You're too cute.

Flip X said...

I smell a diseased, three-limbed, illiterate, trophy boyfriend.

"And the humanitarian award this year goes to...Kevin!" Cue flowers and a tiara.

David said...

Sounds like you're handling this well.