a girl in her city, watching the sunset

The date with Desperado gives us a “How Not to have a blind date”

  • Don’t start dates by explaining you haven’t had a bowel movement.
  • Don’t persist in describing what you want to do about your constipation as date continues
  • Don’t talk about how much you hate your ex gf
    • Or that she left you because you’re so great in bed
  • Don’t talk about how great you are at your job that you hate
    • And how you’re fucking them over
      • Especially because you know I’m busting ass to find a job
  • Don’t tell me you think fat girls can be pretty, too, really
    • As I’m eating
  • Don’t talk about your mother as though she was approaching beatification
    • I don’t want to think about you thinking about your mother
  • Don’t tell me that lives lost to dehydration or otherwise bad partying at an all-day rave are “collateral” to making money for the city
    • When death equals money to you, I don’t feel sexy.
  • Don’t say that you took social science classes because they “boosted” your GPA at UCLA and then say how you barely graduated
    • As a social science/arts and letters double interdisciplinary major and summa cum laude graduate of said institution, not only can my GPA eat yours alive, bitch, but I can think my way out of a paper bag
      • You, plainly, have no idea what the fuck a single self-generated thought might be
  • Don’t tell me that cute girls with big cans are the reason you play beach volleyball
    • I’m a cool chick and all, but let me, at the very least, pretend you’re not objectifying me from the get go
  • Don’t intimate that you want to have sex with me by smashing your fist into your palm
    • Really?  Really?  That’s supposed to make me slick and want you now now now?
  • Don’t gainsay me when I say, no, thanks, I’m going to go home this other way, and not via the street that takes me past your apartment
    • No means no, you fucking idiot.  And yes, I have pepper spray

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