this is a message to all the backwards baseball cap wearin', oakley lovin', shiny truck drivin' boys out there. yes, you, you with your massive egos, your attitude problems, your firm-titted lindsay lohan lookalike girlfriends. you. (who the hell am i kidding? none of these people read my blog. at least, in the name of the little baby jesus, i certainly hope not.)
you are my second favourite people around (right after republicans/conservatives, and, in the interest of something approaching fairness, excluding serious badasses like the trio of stab-happy pricks who killed a woman in calgary last night for no particular reason, and hitler and such).
but here it is: i find myself deeply thankful, when i see you driving around town, looking all cocky and listening to invariably very bad music, that i am nowhere near the dating game. now if it turns out that god is also an oakley wearing fratboy type, and i get punished for this sentiment by the firm and irreversible removal of mister monkey from my life (and if this happens, god, i swear i will hunt you down and chop you into tiny little pieces, divine or not, but i digress) then i will circumnavigate this circumstance by becoming either a necrophiliac, a lesbian* or overly fond of my pets.
no way in hell am i ever going to date your cheap beer swilling asses. just so we're clear on that.
in the unlikely event that you are in any way distraught over this announcement, worry not, for i am not the girl for you: i transport 2x4s and 14' lengths of baseboards in a toyota echo hatchback. i smirk when the price of gas goes up. i pay off my credit card every month. and i recycle. you wouldn't want me anyway.
*i am in no way insinuating that lesbianism and necrophilia are on a similar footing. i am merely enumerating my options. i am all for the hot lesbian lovin'** but we are talking highly specific (and highly theoretical) circumstances here.
**cause we know it's just like in the porn films, no? i welcome any lesbian comments*** gladly.
***no necrophiliac comments, please.