Elevens & Twelves
Yesterday I listened to The Twelves and remembered dating a guy in university who lived in a household of roommates self-named, "the Elevens". Essentially, they were convinced that if rated on a scale of ten, they would all be elevens. I have no idea how a relentless feminist like myself could've tolerated such a douche bag. He must've been smoking hot. I met up with a friend I hadn't seen in 10yrs and he reminded me of all the wrong people I've attempted to date. Nobody was evil, but nobody was right either.
God I'm happy that's over.
I've been accused of being a buffoon all my life, but my strict regime of constant humiliation has led me to lessons learned and the man I love. Dumbassery pays off. I may not be elegant, but as far as luck is concerned, I'm definitely an eleven. Oh look, it's Saturday. Hell yeah.