1. Bigotry. Watching the Olympics with Brad the Clown was a complete nightmare. “Certain groups of people” were cited for being lazy, ignorant, dirtier than most, mentally deficient, etc. What should have been a celebration of this planet’s glorious diversity turned into a mythic argument that ended with a broken dish. This was the beginning of the end for me. Items 2,4,5,&6 below were the death knell.
2. Laziness. Brad the Clown is one of the laziest people I have ever met. Everybody is lazy sometimes; hell, I’m in my pajamas right now and it’s 5 PM. Sometimes I get in bed just to talk on the phone. But some people are lazy as a major component of their personalities. Maybe Brad just ate too much corn (there was a lot of it around him) and it weighed him down. The stupidest part was that he thought he was hard-working and focused.
3. Crying. Big Sven, while tall and strikingly Norwegian in his appearance, was less a Viking than a boy. When we broke up, he cried in my room for literally 3 hours straight. Not just welling up, not getting teary as he scraped up his pride and got out. No: bawling, complete with drool and oceans of tears and the occasional wail of “whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?”. I left him to sit in the living room for a while, I couldn’t take it. I finally threatened to call the cops to get him to leave.
4. Sexual issues. Sven’s manhood, which we nicknamed Lars the Mighty, had some issues from time to time. I realize this occurs, and I’m willing to be patient and supportive to some degree; the turnoff was when Sven asked me whether I thought Lars worked properly. He thought I'd be a good person to run this insecurity by, since he thought maybe I had seen my share of Larses. Don’t reveal to me that you have a sexual hang-up! Talk to your urologist! Incidentally, Brad the Clown also had issues from time to time, depending upon how lazy he was feeling I guess, and he would sometimes punish me for being a bitch by not taking his Cialis. Fucking bozo. (Furthermore, don't ever let me see that you don't consider yourself 100% attractive or sexy. I see and love your flaws. I think you are 100% attractive and sexy; if you don't think so, I begin to doubt.)
5. Lack of table manners. My cookies dry up the instant somebody puts their fingers into their food, especially if it is food like rice or noodles. Brad was really good at this. I guess his left hand was for putting his food onto his fork. I admire a man who can use two utensils to clean their plate, using a knife edge to get the food onto his fork. Other offenses include shoveling, chewing with an open mouth, and failing to compliment me or show appreciation when I have prepared an entire meal. Is that too much to ask?
I am starting to realize that I’m not exactly sure why I dated Brad the Clown. He seemed such a winner at first … but once the balloon animal amazement wore off, there wasn’t much to hold on to.
6. Hygiene issues. Ear wax, lack of Q-tip skills, failure to tackle eye boogies first thing in the morning, breath, swamp ass, and dirty fingernails all come to mind. Don’t mistake me—there’s a place in life for being really sweaty and dirty. I love man-sweat after a workout, hike, or a day chopping wood or digging in the mud. Yum. But bodily crust? Nay. On the flip side, too much primping is unappealing too. I don’t like my guys queer-eyed and mani-pedied, I like them rugged but cleanish.
So do you see the problem? I’ve been single for a long enough time that I’ve complied an entire list of all my don'ts; a list that grows every day. I’m actually easy to please, despite the daunting size of these particulars. Is it too much to ask for a man who has manners, is clean, works hard, is respectful, and is fully aware of his own sexiness? I don’t think so.
Anyone who decides to write a comment about me being too picky, or “no wonder you’re single”, or having “impossible expectations”, please also be sure to leave your street address so I can come by and whup your ass. Don't think I won't.