I will keep this brief, as I don’t want my roommate/mother barging in on me and ruining my mojo.
I am every bit as painfully unattractive as I am disgusting and rude. I am ultra pessimistic nearly all of the time, except of course when I’m talking about myself, which is also almost all of the time. Your family will undoubtedly hate me, which I have no problem with, as will your friends, which I am also OK with, because I will hate most of them too, especially once they have all turned me down for trying to sleep with them. I aspire one day to be a world class lazy alcoholic, but at the present must settle for just being a regular lazy alcoholic…I have much practicing to do. I make my living off a little known agency called “the government”. I highly recommend it as it affords me all the time I need to hone my crafts. I am obnoxious, violent, and excessively angry when I’ve been drinking, and am generally unpleasant to be around…but pretty much only when I’m awake. I am the guy who farts on the train and in the elevator, not because I have to, but because I enjoy it. I strongly believe that a woman’s place is in the kitchen, not because I want to eat her terrible cooking (because mine is 1000% better) but because if she is in the kitchen then she is neither talking to me nor can she see me watching porn and chatting up her sister/cousin/mother/best friend on Facebook. I can, and will, one up any story you could ever possibly tell me, mostly because nearly every single thing that comes out of my mouth is a complete lie…or is it? I don’t even know! I have lost the ability to know when I am lying, which makes me excellent at it. I do look forward to the chance for you to take me out on a date though, nothing better than a free meal and some great NYC scenery (i.e. waitresses). You don’t ever have to worry about the date being too long and awkward though, because once we finish eating, you can just have the cab drop me off at whatever gentleman’s club, or after hours club, or casino my buddies are at that particular night and we will call it an evening until our next amazing date. So, it pretty much goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway…you have met Mr. Perfect, which is actually tattooed on my body in four different places, but only where literally thousands and thousands of beautiful, lucky women have had the distinguished honor of seeing it.
If you’ve made it this far, you can obviously take a joke, or you are terrifyingly desperate…either of which I am thrilled with. You should probably message me at this point so I can try to work you into the schedule sometime this week, spots are filling up fast.