Six Characteristics of My Future Ex-Husband
Posted by thegirlwiththeblog
At 22 years old with one ex husband and several appalling attempts at romance under my love handles, I have decided my pursuits for happiness need to be better focused. For that reason I have concocted a list of the six characteristics necessary in my next semi-serious, emotionally sadistic relationship.
Because I am incapable of committing to anything other than my credit union, I think it wise to look at this list not so much as a guide to eternal happiness, but as a guide to the brief happiness I will experience when I foolishly divulge in a relationship that will most definitely end up in the shitter.
I digress. Here we go.
1. Crazy beard – There are two physical characteristics that make me want to give up wearing underwear entirely: nice eyes and a wild, unruly beard. Since my preference in male eye color changes more often than my love/hate relationship with Anne Hathaway, I am going to count my fetish for excessive facial hair as my one physical requirement. Some (lesbian) women hate facial hair of any kind. I however am a facial hair enthusiast. I am not happy unless a man has an unmanageable, unkempt, mountain man, beard. Beards are sexy in a “I’m too busy hunting grizzlies and chopping firewood to shave my chiseled jaw” kind of way. I want it. I need it.
2. He needs to have his priorities straight. A sample list should look something like this:
1. Bob Dylan
3. Gas station cappuccinos
My next miserably, drawn out relationship should begin with our mutual obsession with Bob Dylan and fulfilling our sick need to bring him up at least seven times a day. I want him to cancel plans with me because he is going to the same Bob Dylan show he didn’t realize I already had tickets for. I want him to use Bob Dylan lyrics in conversation more often than his own thoughts, because if he’s truly a Bob Dylan fan, he knows that no matter what he wants to say, Bob Dylan has said it better.
After Bob Dylan I am flexible.
J/k. Obviously myself and caffeinated beverages need to come before his family, friends, and dignity.
3. A varied vocabulary: I want him to use words like “vestibule,” “sanctimonious” and “pronk” in daily conversation, and preferably in the same sentence.
Example. The Neo Nazi prayer group that met in the dusty cobweb strewn vestibule inspired sanctimonious feelings in the pronks and dregs in attendance.
Bam. Schooled. Just like that.
4. A wide collection of plaid shirts – I’m not sure where the current trends of graphic tees and argile sweater vests came from or why anyone finds it appealing, but I do know one thing for sure. Nothing gets my non-steely thighs to open faster than a guy in plaid. Plaid is hot. A guy in plaid can hike for four days without a shower and still look delicious. Plaid is sexy. Plaid will get you laid by this chick, delusional about the powers of patterned clothing.
5. The ability to identify countries like Cameroon and Tajikistan on a map:
Why? Because I can’t and he needs to bring something to the relationship.
Hahahahhaha, J/K, I can. I’m very familiar with South American geography.
6. An appreciation for my translucent skin tone, bloated physique and misusage of the word “intense”:
I am a pasty, borderline albino, with a tendency to misuse words that begin with vowels. My permanent water retention, best depicted in my pants size, needs to be cherished and appreciated. I need a Cappuccino-drinking, plaid-wearing, well-spoken, Bob Dylan fan, with an excellent sense of direction and a disorderly beard, who is attracted to the type of girl that could live six weeks off of nothing but her own body fat and her uncanny ability to entertain herself.
So…yeah. There you have it.
If any of you reading know of a man that meets these requirements, please let him know that I am single and anxious to enter into a parasitic romance that will no doubt result in a costly divorce and a mutual, life-long loathing for one another and all members of the opposite gender.
The girl with high expectations and overgrown eyebrows.
About thegirlwiththeblogAt any given time I can be found moisturizing my elbows and searching for words that rhyme with orange.
Posted on July 10, 2011, in all about men, beards, Bob Dylan related ramblings, distorted views on love and tagged beards, ex husbands, humor, life, love, relationships. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.