Holiday Girlfriend Wanted.
Christmas and New Year's will soon be upon us, so it's time for my annual "Holiday Girlfriend" post. Let me be clear - I want a girlfriend, but I don't really want a girlfriend. I just want one for the holidays. This post has actually been successful for me several times, so go ahead and scoff right off of your high and onto your face. You and I both know you'll either be laughing at or thinking about this post for a few hours after reading it. You may even and me. First and foremost, let's recognize something here. The holidays kind of suck, most especially for us single folks. All of your coupled friends are going to be doing couple things -- snuggling by the fire, going to dinner at each others' parents houses, skiing in the , posting ugly sweater party blondes women searching dating french women selfies on Instagram, shopping for stupid shit they don't need on Black Friday, etc. Let's recognize another thing -- deep down inside, you don't really want to be alone for the holidays. We've all been there and it's awful. I once spent Christmas in a dorm room whilst crying into a cup of Ramen with a busted knee. You want somebody to do all of those cute things with, someone to get fat and keep warm next to (Let's also recognize that it's getting fucking cold here), and someone to accompany you to your friends' stupid holiday parties so they don't keep thinking you're a loser destined for permanent solo status. Turn that resting bitch face into a smile and let's pretend we're happy. So maybe you've spent all year working on your career, training for 5K runs, getting drunk, crying over student loans, SnapChatting your idiot friends, or maybe just sitting around like another . After that we can still be friends. Unless, of course, we hate each other. Then we can downshift to the occasional drunken booty or passive like. If you're a swamp monster, please don't waste your time by messaging me. I am not single because I'm a swamp monster. I am single because I'm a . If you're sitting there wondering whether or not you fall into the swamp monster category, I may have some bad news for you. (Try Tinder) The benefits: You have someone to keep you company on these witch-tit-cold Pennsylvania nights. Did I mention that I'm an excellent cuddler? I have references and can provide them upon request. I like to cook. (As do my housemates) I especially like to cook for others. Let's bake delicious holiday pies together. Hate holiday music? Me too. Seeing as every other establishment or event you step into will be playing it, I'll spare you the excess. The one exception coming to mind is Bing Crosby's "Silent Night." That song is beautiful and if you it, I'm breaking up with you. Love taking campy holiday pictures? Let's wear gaudy holiday attire and make ridiculous postcards to send your friends and family. Worried about finding someone to kiss on New Year's who doesn't look like DeVito as the Penguin? Fear not, I've got you covered. (That was a great role for him, though) I will suit up and meet whatever ridiculous family members you'd like me to. Not only will I your father , but he'll probably love me and subconsciously treat you better for it. (If you're lurking for a man, you probably have daddy issues and could use the boost) About me: Mid-twenties, military , firearms owner, history lover, active (I jog and hike a little), outgoing enough, relatively decent looking, somewhat educated. I'm told I'm kind of like Parker and McKenzie had a sarcastic . I live in a nice home with two dopey dogs who will shower you with enough attention to make up for the last few years of crippling you've experienced. Dealbreakers: Heavy use, laziness, prudishness, still in love with old boy or girlfriend from years past, exceedingly liberal, stupid. If you're wondering whether or not your stupid (Just like the aforementioned swamp monster bit), I may have bad news for you again. Off to Tinder you go. If not, stop reading this and me. Interested? Then send your and bio and get this ball rolling.
Women want casual sex Grayson Kentucky
Estelle
I am forgiving you.
It was either that or die, quite simply.
Please forgive me.