I never have boyfriends. I date, I kiss, I fall in love. But rarely do I accept when boys ask me to “be their girlfriend.” There’s just something about the finality of it all that freaks me out and leaves feeling trapped and suffocated.
Do I make out with multiple guys if I’m seeing someone? No. But in my sick and twisted mind, I technically on-paper could.
Anyway, the irony of all irony occurred 2 days after officially becoming someone’s girlfriend.
While having dinner with my cousin, I complained about my boyfriend and told her how differently I thought he’d treat me if I officially committed to him. She bitched about her boyfriend also and, before we knew it, we polished off a bottle of wine.
The Age-Old Question Has Finally Been Answered: Jen Chooses Guys Over Food
Before I even write this post, I feel that I must preface by saying that the guy I leapt out of my seat for did not look like this dude. But this photo was so beautiful I physically could not control myself.
One of my best friends, Alessia, once had this quote as her Facebook status. It is the perfect segway to the rest of the post (which is also about her).
Men are like fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it’s a woman’s job to stomp the shit out of them until they mature into something you’d want to have dinner with.
Alessia is dating the devil, himself. I call him Josh. I’ve expressed my disdain for Josh in past posts, but here I go again. I hate this dude so much that I feel like I’m dating him.
A few weeks ago, Alessia accidentally locked her car keys in her car while she was getting gas at a gas station near Josh’s house in Brooklyn. She had just left Josh a few minutes earlier, and called him in a panic.
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” he asked, nastily and unconcerned.