“You look very do-able today"

First of all, I look like that every day. Secondly, that’s a terrible compliment because of the slight inference that there are times in which I do not look “do-able.” Try adding a qualifier to that statement. Maybe “especially do-able.”

But ultimately, you should just shut up.

I’d rather you tell me I’m smart or funny before pretty. Hell, compliment my organizational skills. Sure are a tidy lady. How attractive you think I may be is about as important to me as what you think of my ability to sew on buttons. Fuck buttons.

Yesterday, the guy at the liquor store asks me on a date. No thanks. He says, “Worth a shot…figured you were out of my league.”

Whoa, what? I mean, of course I know I’m not so repugnant that I’m on the brink of being banished into the wilderness by a band of villagers with torches and pitchforks. Bigfoot is really just a really ugly lady. She’s all hairy like that because personal grooming is hard to keep up in the woods. Totally true.

I don’t know what liquor boy’s league is but I am neither in nor out of it. I don’t play your sport kiddo; a league of my own.

Big brains baby…that’s all I care about. Recently, it was pointed out to me that the only reason I could take this position was because I was not hard on the eyes (as it were). Yeah now…me age 15-17…let’s just say the villagers were closing in.

Anyway, thanks for appreciating what irrelevant about me. Next time let’s try having a conversation.