When going on a first date, one must, of course, hide their crap tattoos, shortcomings and unfavourable personality traits. But what else?
Oh dear, we were a mess last night weren’t we? Shots on a Monday, asking the guy at McDonald’s if we could walk through the drive-through on all fours to get fries because the main restaurant was closed.
Obviously, there are no differences between men and women because gender is a social construct and time is an illusion and we’re all just lizards, but also, men and women are different.
I can’t have kids. I mean physically I can, but mentally, CHRIST NO, why on earth would anyone want to put themselves through that?
The woman at the gym offered me her last chocolate – that’s basically a marriage proposal, right?
A good bra is like a good friend, supportive, reliable and constantly touching your boobs.
WTF? I’ll be salt and pepper down there? My vagina will have a silver lining? I’ll have grey lady whiskers?
I went on a date with my “dream woman”. It turns out that the criteria for my “dream woman” is somewhat lacking…