Why I'm Single (by Lemmonex)

Ok, so Lemmonex's post I read today is just about the best thing ever. Enjoy:


Hating animals and the outdoors has rendered me undateable.

If you are a single woman, you know what exactly what I am talking about. The dating landscape is so mired with cliches, down right predictable that I can practically peg what a guy is going to say on a first date (or in his online dating profile…yes, I dabble online) before I even meet him.

Single men love the outdoors. They want someone to go camping with and who enjoys the fresh air. It is an “essential”. Am I a crazy shut in? No, but camping ranks right below a colonic on things I want to have happen to me. Yes, camping happens to people. If someone wants to chase me around a god damn tipi in the woods to fulfill their Pocohontas fantasy, I am game but I sure as shit am not squatting in a hole on the regular. I don’t want to hike. This is why I live in a major metropolitan area.

And dogs! Men and their dogs. THEY LOVE THEIR DOGS. ”You have to love my dog”, they will say. Ya know what, dude? I may like your dog, I more likely will tolerate it and I might even fucking hate it. They show you pictures of their dog, expecting you to cream yourself. They tell you cutesey stories waiting for a hearty laugh. I have a heart and have loved some canines, but this is not the way to this girls heart. Show me a picture of your flat screen TV or your niece. Shit, show me a picture of the Guatamalan orphan you sponsor. This is way more likely to get me wet. I recently had a guy tell me his 5 year plan included owning an awesome dog. SO, let me get this straight…your goal is to be a cliche, but you are not even there yet.

And dudes who love cats? No thanks. I like my men with a penis, please.

They all say “I am just your average guy”. I don’t want average and I do not want to date someone who so easily bows down to the alter of average. God knows no one is truly special, we are never as unique as we think we are, but please try. Give me something, anything. And you hipsters who name bands I have never heard of or who tell tales of spending summers in Nepal washing the feet of the elderly? You are just as average, just as boring. An average guy takes off his khakis, fucks me missionary, drives me to the Olive Garden in his Ford Focus and sends me red roses the next day.

Maybe I am single because I am a judgmental bitch. Maybe I should hug a tree and a dog. Perhaps I should embrace the comfort of breadsticks and sensible fashion. But I can’t, I just can’t. Call me tough, call me rigid, call me undateable. I don’t care. Give me leather, give me the city, give me a steak, give me something new.