Straight Guys Are Dirty

I find straight people to be tedious.

Well, it’s not just that I find them boring, (although I do), it’s that their standards are so much lower than mine.

My roommate just brought home a date to the house before taking her out to dinner. (This, of course, happened after we had the conversation that he, as a guy who can’t cook to save his life, should not attempt to cook her dinner.)

Now, our house is dirty. It’s gross. Our cleaning lady’s out of town and no one’s done anything to make the situation any better. It’s not like it’s I-think-something-may-have-died-under-that-pile-of-dishes-but-I-don’t-want-to-check-because-it’s-too-gross gross, but it’s definitely not I-feel-so-confident-bringing-this-hottie-back-to-my-apartment-I-know-I’ll-get-some-ass clean, either.

But the problem: He doesn’t even realize. He actually thought the apartment was clean. He actually thought that he could just make a basic salad and she’d be happy.

If I were bringing someone home, I’d make sure all the roommates were gone for the night, the floors were mopped and I brought my best pastry skills. I mean, if I’m gonna go for results, I’m gonna go for results.

I guess that’s why I don’t date straight guys.

That’s Just How I Roll

When getting up from my window seat on the bus trying to exit and the person next to me in the aisle seat doesn’t move to let me out, I deliberately hit them in the face with my backpack.

Giving Myself A Hand

I’m one of the world’s millions of single twenty-somethings.

I have no one to keep me company at night, no one to take out for dinner, no one to cuddle up to when it’s cold outside and just not warm enough inside.

But let it be known, I’m OK with that. Really.

See, I’m ok with that because, as you know, I have myself. Oh yes, that’s exactly what I mean.

I handle myself quite well, most of the time.

It’s just that, sometimes, even I’m not in the mood for it.

And while that shouldn’t be a problem, it turns out to be quite the predicament when I convince myself to suck it up and go for it. They do say it’s like pizza, right?

Most of the time it’s just fine, but every so often, it fails miserably.

Have you ever fallen asleep on yourself?

I have.

Yes, friends, I’m man enough to say that there are times in my life when even I don’t do it for me and I wake up the next morning with my pants around my ankles and severely confused.

More than once.

(Actually, a few times. For serious.)