My friend has decided that I need to hurry the fuck up and look for you, but I’m far too busy and important for that. So I thought what I’d do is write you a letter so that you can come and find me.
I really am that lazy.
First off, you need to be either a firefighter, a paramedic or an athlete. The first two are because of the uniform, not the hero complex and the last one is because I want to follow you around while you do your chosen sport and cheer you on from the sidelines.
Please note: golf, snooker and darts are not sports and I will not be watching that shit. And no, I don’t care if you’re the best in the world at it.
I’d like you to be able to play tennis, but not be better than me. I’d like you to be able to make me laugh, but not be funnier than me and I’d also like you to live a maximum distance of 3 miles from my flat.
You need to own a car, obviously, how else are you going to whisk me away to the Lake District for the weekend? Unless I add you onto my Dacia car insurance, but that’s not very sexy or whiskawayable so… have your own car please.
My friend says that you need to be a 10, but I’m willing to negotiate this down to a 9.5. You need to be blonde and at least 5’10” and no, that is not negotiable.
I’m a very thoughtful girlfriend, (read: an overthinker) who can give you a 10-minute massage once a month. I will also pay for dinner on your birthday (but only if I have a voucher) and I will be the designated driver on nights out, but only if I’m on antibiotics and can’t drink anyway.
If this all sounds good then please get in touch because my friend is really close to pinning me down and forcing me to download Tinder and I’d rather find someone the old-fashioned way. Via an open letter on my blog.
May blessings and smiles be yours,
Your future girlfriend
P.s. Please don’t watch any of my videos before we meet because you really will get the wrong idea about me (I actually have my shit completely together in real life and am a total catch).