No raptor rapture here

It's no wonder my dating life is extinct.  Look what I have to deal with:

Impressive.  The camera angle really makes those tiny dinosaur arms look a lot longer.  

Is that a drill next to his head?  So it wasn't an asteroid after all...just Darwinism.

Gesundheit.

I won't argue with you there, buddy.  And it's a melfie in an airplane bathroom.  Good God, you've taken the public toilet backdrop to new heights.  

And you, sir, have taken Photoshop to a new low.  (But I will give you points for choosing a reptile other than a python.)  It's a good thing that little guy gave you a ride after he bit off your feet.  

So, in closing, I'm just not feeling a connection with these Cretaceous Casanovas...maybe it's because I don't wear dinosaur jammies, maybe it's self-preservation because I'm a mammal who's lower on their food chain.  Either way, I'll leave these opportunities for some paleontologist living in coastal Montana about a million years from now.

Panty raid

Oh, the things you find on online dating sites...

No, no you wouldn't.  

And what's this "if you wear panties" ridiculousness?  Who's not wearing panties?  Going commando is gross.  I know only one person who occasionally has an unsanctioned commando afternoon and that's my five-year-old nephew.  

Aside from the fact that this is unsanitary, and weird, it's dangerous.  I appreciate a good full-coverage pair of briefs.  I'm not wearing a string bikini nor am I wearing a thong.  Sorry to destroy your fantasies.  I just don't enjoy picking out a wedgie all day or flossing my lady bits.  Both of those tiny scraps of material would be considered choking hazards.  Mine would lead to full-on suffocation.  It's all fun and games until somebody's convicted of manslaughter.

Besides, I'm sure you heard about that dog who ate 62 hair bands and eight pairs of briefs earlier this year.  Don't be that dog, ladies.

But is this really fun?  And for who?  I'll tell you what would amuse me--having this mysogynist do it first.  You go ahead and stuff those two-day boxers or skid-marked tighty whities in there, bucko.  I'm sure it's hot.

Speaking of tighty whities...imagine the joy when this showed up:

Seriously.  Usually the guys who post shirtless photos are sporting a six-pack, not a quarter barrel.  While I admire your confidence, I do wish that this bathroom melfie included a hideous shower curtain to distract me from those briefs that are chock full o' nuts.  I might just gag--no panties needed.

Count me out

If you've read any of my previous posts, you know that correct spelling and grammar are high on my list.  That being said, you can also infer that counting is up there, too.

Where's that bucket?  Someone please just drown me in it.  Or let one of those pythons have a go at me.  

Ok, there are four things here, not six.  I know some people might be like, "Maybe there aren't six things he can't live without; maybe he's not that materialistic."  Well, he is human and I can list off a lot things we can't live without...water, air, food, the sun (you know if that goes out we die, right?), heart, brain...that's six right there.  Simple biology can fill in the blanks.  But this spelling bee champ has listed only four, the first of which may actually be biological...his "gutair."  

Gutair...gut air...farts?  It's common knowledge that a man's love of flatulence is inversely proportional to a woman's appreciation of the same, so this may be a valid listing--for a guy.  While you're mighty pleased with yourself after crop dusting the kitchen, your significant other is gagging as she is also trying to make sure that none of it got in her mouth.  If you've got "gutair" and "ciggerttes," I bet her list of necessary items includes Beano and Febreze.

This list is better.  Kudos on the spelling, but I'm taking away points for using the same answer twice.  I'm taking away points for using the same answer twice.  See?  It doesn't work.  Still five.

Now here's one I can get behind.  He's got family and basic needs listed (namely "home," but the last two could also be considered basic needs...don't judge me).  So close...but, alas, seven is not six.

I know you think I'm being nit-picky, but the field doesn't say "The six things I could never do without within a tolerance of +/- two things."  Even my two-year-old niece can count to ten with no problem.  My oldest nephew just had to demonstrate that he could count to twenty to enroll in Kindergarten.  I think we've found three children left behind here.

Earlier this year a young woman in India walked away from her wedding after asking the soon-to-be-groom to add 15 and six.  His answer was 17.  It's a global epidemic.