I don’t think I’ve read anything so utterly spot on before. Well worth a read, whether or not you spent yesterday on your own, hanging out with friends, or the love of your life.
Dear Future Husband,
Hey, fucker. Yeah, you. Asshole. Where the fuck have you been? I wait all goddamn year for you to show up, and yet every year you fail me. You’re supposed to waltz into my life with just the right combination of swagger, rugged sex appeal, and humility. You flash me a smile, drop a few smooth words, maybe do a couple pushups, and then date the hell out of me. Get your shit together, future husband! I am losing patience over here. How many more empty Valentine’s Days am I going to have to sit through before you sack up and sack me?
I mean, I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do. I stay healthy (you know, slim, but without sacrificing curves), I keep my face fresh (natural makeup, of course, enough for you to think I’m not wearing any), my clothes cute (but never too short or too…
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