As a personal preference, I would pick the former every time.
While I most definitely insist on a clean mate--neat fingernails, brushed teeth, et cetera, et cetera--I have no desire for a partner who could be deemed prettier than moi. Or, one who would dare intrude on my mirror space.
It’s not out of a want to disregard anyone’s taste--alright maybe a bit-- that I’m spending a considerably worrisome amount of time trying to figure out what could possibly be the appeal of a male who shapes his eyebrows better than I? The only conclusion that I've been able to device is they may make for a fun date to take to the day spa, but I would much rather take a gaggle of friends, where we would discuss the gentleman and voice important concerns--like the size of the bulge in his pants.
The relationship would play out in a predictable manner: Future fights about face lotions and other various beauty products will make friends uncomfortable on game night. Soon you’ll be accusing him of stealing your shaving cream. He’ll end it when you fail to notice his new outfit. His parting words: “You don’t make me feel sexy anymore.”
The strain would be too much for any woman to handle.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Quite right, these metrosexuals are for lesbians who want to procreate. A real woman prefers a big hairy caveman who'll carry her off to his lair.
Imagery alone has me swooning.
Post a Comment