blather about men
There exists a dating stereotype. I, as a single, effervescent pixie squeezing of a girl among the stark hot vultures of the dating scene get to see this on daily bases.
The Khaki-Smothered Alpha Dog Who Tells the Same Joke Every Five Seconds. This is much worse with alcohol, believe me.
The Blonde Hipster in a Blazer and Dirty Jeans. Also known as "I just stepped off the set of a Weezer music video". Also known as "I go to Denny's at four in the morning to ignore the simpletons".
The I Can't Think of You Like That guy. He's saved you from choking on your own vomit; he's bent over backwards for your every waking whim. He will do anything for you and decides he will about ten minutes into spending "quality" time with you. He also won't stop touching you, however, you simply cannot think of him in a sexual way unless you're drunk and choking on your own vomit.
The Sophisticated Drunk. He only wears Italian suits. He believes in obscure, foreign wine. He has all of Lacan's hidden letters. He swaggers with style. He has a small penis.
The Atrabilious Artist. He writes horrible poetry about politics and broods on your bedroom floor at three in the morning when you refuse to have sex with him.
The Basement Musician. One day, his band will make it big. Seriously.
Then, without realizing it, you meet someone who won't stop smiling at you, and he has a motorcycle, and he's in the same revolution, and his ears are recessive. I'll take three, thanks.
Happy New Year, dears.
time & machine