Men, the following is a guide for whether I would sleep with you, based on your shoes. Women, although I cannot presume you share my taste in men (and, apparently, Asics), the red flag shoes should be universal.
See, I’ve got a theory, and it’s that we’re all possessed by this need to be special, to be different – to matter so much to the person we choose to be with that we eclipse all that came before and all who will come after.
This was not how it was supposed to work. I never set out to be half of that couple you hear about. The ones that because of high rents or long leases or the great dysfunction are forced to live with each other long after their relationship has expired. Yet here I am. Freshly twenty-seven and living with my ex-boyfriend.
You’re so bored. It’s six p.m. and there is nothing good on T.V. so you want to have sex with someone. Depending on your situation, you will either have to seek it out like a hunter. You will go to the bars and zero in on your prey, or you will have sex with someone who is required to have sex with you i.e. your GF/BF.
While they have common characteristics—a lone, often single humanoid in the company of a couple (and sometimes a really super cute, tiny little puppy the couple just added to the fold) with whom they are not sexually or romantically involved—third wheels come in many shapes and sizes, and often serve quite a functional purpose for said couple.
I thought only ugly people were murderers. Why are all of these hot men getting into it now? It used to be that if you picked a good-looking husband, you could pretty much guarantee he wouldn’t kill you. Not anymore though! God, is anything sacred?
Brian Krakow. Hesitantly dated a mostly unsatisfying high school senior post-graduation and lost his virginity, but had to break up with her to pursue his rigorous and immediate program of higher education. During school he wrote numerous letters to Angela that he didn’t send.
I know you probably think I’m some kind of uniquely filthy, completely nasty woman, but I’m not. Just because I like picking the wax out of my ears and rolling it into little balls, or because I spend an equal amount of time picking my nose and hoping that a little hair will come out attached to the snot.