My Perfect Mate

You: light skinned or darker, 5'9" or taller, HPTW or within range, 7" or longer (but, Dear God, not MUCH), Associates or better, 24 or older, 40 or younger, swagger or some semblance thereof.

You've got a pair of Tims and at least one suit jacket; Neither collects dust, and you can tie a tie. (Any knot will do)



Orange is orange, no matter the shade, and you never EVER call it tangerine ... or pumpkin.




You can dance - but you don't always throw down some cardboard everytime you hear 'your' song.



You can have mannerisms at times, viturally undetectable, but your purse NEVER falls out no matter how much you run your mouth.



SOME people know; not that it's any of their business, but they're your support system. You might wear a scarf if it's cold, but you don't own a boa. The only feathers you own are in that old triple fat goose no one knows why you still own. But you own it - fuck em. It fits.




You talk a good game, but you listen intently too. You can have a drink, or two or eight - but never need to crawl home or be dragged around by your arms. You speak your mind, but think before you do so ... and never use 'I'm just being honest' as an excuse to be rude and inappropriate. (Unless it's warranted - but then you don't need an excuse). You know that 'conversate' isn't a word and that 'literally' means, uh ... LITERALLY. (Seriously, your head was not 'literally' spinning around ... I don't care how crazy that mfer was driving you).




You know there's a God and give him his props ... but don't let church or denominational doctrine affect your direct link to Him.



You own a belt. You use said belt. Around your waist.



If I measure your waist ... your pants are somewhat close to that size. I'm the only one who sees your underwear - but you don't expect me to always have to be the one to wash them. I mean, I *will* ... but you manage to master the coalescence of detergent, water and washing machine.



(If you already didn't know what it meant, you're looking up the word "coalescence")

You're handy around the house and if the gutters are full of crud you don't scream like a bitch when we reach into them to clean 'em. And ... I cannot stress this enough ... You have your friends, and I have mine. You like my company but don't need to be 3 and a half inches from my face all day. Because, baby ... I'm a need some space too. Thanks.