You will be out with friends In the morning, her name will be In his kitchen, he will hand-feed you At home, you will picture her across town You will want to call him. Do not call him.
when the news of her existence
will be accidentally spilled all over
your bar stool. Respond calmly
as if it was only a change in weather,
a punch line you saw coming.
After your fourth shot of cheap liquor,
leave the image of him kissing another woman
in the toilet.
in every headline: car crash, robbery, flood.
When he calls you, ignore the hundreds of ropes
untangling themselves in your stomach.
You are the best friend again. He invites
you over for dinner and you say yes
too easily. Remind yourself this isn’t special,
it’s only dinner, everyone has to eat.
When he greets you at the door, do not think
for one second you are the reason
he wore cologne tonight.
a piece of red pepper. His laugh
will be low and warm and it will make you
feel like candlelight. Do not think this is special.
Do not count on your fingers the number
of freckles you could kiss too easily.
Try to think of pilot lights and olive oil,
not everything you have every loved about him,
or it will suddenly feel boiling and possible
and so close. You will find her bobby pins
laying innocently on his bathroom sink.
Her bobby pins. They look like the wiry legs
of spiders, splinters of her undressing
in his bed. Do not say anything.
Think of stealing them, wearing them
home in your hair. When he hugs you goodbye,
let him kiss you on the forehead.
Settle for target practice.
pressing her fingers into his back
like wet cement. You will wonder
if she looks like you, if you are two bedrooms
in the same house. Did he fall for her features
like rearranged furniture? When he kisses her,
does she taste like wet paint?
You will go as far as holding the phone
in your hand, imagine telling him
unimaginable things like you are always
ticking inside of me and I dream of you
more often than I don’t.
My body is a dead language
and you pronounce
each word perfectly.
Fall asleep to the hum of the VCR.
She must make him happy.
She must be
She must be his favorite place in Minneapolis.
You are a souvenir shop, where he goes
to remember how much people miss him
when he is gone.
You will be out with friends
In the morning, her name will be
In his kitchen, he will hand-feed you
At home, you will picture her across town
You will want to call him.
Do not call him.
Now, before you get all upset about a woman turning a modern man into the punch line of a feminist joke, remember that Stephanie still has 124 sandwiches to go.
Man must tolerate me petting 300 dogs to earn marriage proposal. #300bitches
Man must earn at least 300 dollars a day to earn marriage proposal. #300riches
Man must tolerate me at a Phillies game at least 300 times to earn marriage proposal. #300pitches
Man must tolerate me at a Flyers game at least 300 times to earn marriage proposal. #300voracekes
Man must spend 300 days working in the ER to earn marriage proposal. #300stitches
Man must spend 300 minutes figuring out why my work computer keeps blacking out randomly to earn marriage proposal. #300glitches
Man must play seeker in 300 Quidditch matches to earn marriage proposal. #300goldensnitches
Man must rally 299 more people to impersonate Hedberg to earn marriage proposal. #300mitches
Man must find 300 teens at a job fair that stop by his booth and misspronounce niche. #300nitches
Career man must write 300 television shows and present them to the major networks to earn marriage proposal. #300pitches
If you think Black People Meet is racist, you
- Are probably a white person and need to reevaluate your worldview.
- Need to understand that when every single dating site is saturated with arbitrary, presumptuous, and actually racist nonsense like “Anglo 4 Anglo,” there is only so much assault a person can take before they just throw their hands up and go somewhere where they feel wanted. Arbitrary because, not that this argument needs to be made to whoever my audience on here is, limiting yourself to potential boning partners because of the color of someone’s skin is so unreasonable and irrational that the best case scenario is that it’s just a random confine you’re picking out of a hat. “I won’t date… uh… it says ‘anyone with bangs?’ Fuck, and I thought I was attracted to Scream 3 era Courtney Cox! Darn. Better get on my way with internalizing this completely bizarre judgement call. God forbid I bring someone with bangs to Thanksgiving.” Presumptuous because no one wants your dumpy pale ass anyway. Listen, I’m not hear to judge you on your preferred aesthetics. Personally, I refuse to date the vast majority of people who wear sunglass on the reg. But to go out of your way to publicize that you are so appalled by the idea of someone of color messaging you instead of just, I don’t know, exercising your free will and not responding to people you aren’t attracted to, is actually racist and most shocking in its ubiquitousness. The only reason Black People Meet exists is because black people have been so exiled by virtually every other dating site that they feel the need to form a community where they can at least eliminate being discriminated against from the equation. Where, if nothing else, because obviously not all black people are clones of one another nor are only open to dating other black people like the site my imply, there is a commonality of experience. Being able to say, “Damn, white people sometimes, you know?” in a space with other humans who implicitly understand on a visceral level everything being communicated in that “you know?” is exclusionary and casts a wide net, but sometimes, eh, white people, you know?!
This post is brought to you courtesy of the guy who messages me on Grindr every couple of months and asks me what my ethnicity is and follows that up with “oh, sorry, not into Hispanic” despite that I have a profile picture and am too cute for him anyway. I’ll be taking all your Selena records, now.
DREAM DATE: take me to barnes and noble, give me $500, leave.
DREAM DATE: Take me to LUSH, give me $500, leave.
DREAM DATE: Give me $500 dollars. Leave.
DREAM DATE: Paypal me $500. Never be physically within 100 miles of me.
very fucking creepy. I searched mine and it was there, my house, my parents, everything. bless this post, I removed my shit.
Yeah, I lost my fucking shit when I first found out about this site. Signal boosting for privacy.
im a catch.
how come i havent been caught yet?
I will never not reblog this, because this is my life.
all the cute ones are gay
How do people end up in relationship after relationship after relationship and I can’t find a single person to even find me remotely interesting for a solid ten seconds?
This is a real question.
Hard on Hoes: Bathroom Edition
OHHHHHHH, I like this. Everybody wins.