Coming Soon: A New Target ==> ME!!!

An interesting issue was broached to me the other night -- fairness. I was at a bar with one of my four readers, and this reader told me that it's totally fine for me to bash on my dates as long as I tell my stories fairly. I immediately told him to fuck off and find another blog because I don't have time to worry about being reputable. I'm protected by ANONYMITY, baby!!

But then I pondered the possibility of my identity someday being revealed, particularly as the inevitable popularity of this blog spreads across the land and I am crowned the Carrie Bradshaw of the 20-something singles set. If you are to worship me, I must value honesty at least slightly. And so I've decided to present a more balanced tale of my "love life." I hope I can forgive myself for this someday.

Also, I must confess something that will come as a shock to you, particularly if you are someone who actually knows me: I'm not perfect. Yes, I know it's hard to believe. I spend most of my time finding the exact opposite of that to be true, but then once in a while I fuck up BIG TIME, and I'm reminded that no, I am not perfect, and, in fact, I am far from perfection. So far from perfection that I could squint into the Hubble Telescope and not make out even one corner of perfection.

So what does this mean for you? This means you'll get to hear stories about all the times that I totally cock blocked myself with a guy and then got spit out like the gum you just realized you've been chewing all afternoon but had lost its flavor and softness hours ago. By the way, that was the world's perfect analogy. It really cuts to how a man will keep you around because it's convenient and he's too busy thinking about other things, but he one day realizes, "UGH! Why the fuck am I still working on this when I can get something new and tasty?!" and then hurls you out of his life. Ingenious. I know. It can't be stopped.

I suppose that you're now expecting me to launch into a hilarious, self-deprecating story about one of my failures, but, sorry, nothing's coming to mind yet. Searching for my mistakes in my immaculate past is like trying to find dirt on Gandhi. Good luck, bitches! But I'll come back to you with some good shit. Seriously, I will. And it'll be worth the wait.