Today I'm grateful
for my boyfriend deal-breaker list.

If some woman unknowingly drives off with her baby on the roof of her car, that’s her business. But if the same woman drives off with an Hermes Kelly bag on the roof of her car, I’m diving into oncoming traffic, flagging her down, risking life and limb to make sure that handbag is safe and sound. Let’s be frank, you only have to wait nine months for a baby, but a Kelly bag can take years to arrive. Wait. What’s that you say? I’m a hero? Nooo, not me. You think I’m a humanitarian? Well yes I am. Which is why I’m sharing my boyfriend deal-breaker list. (Even though I’m being overly modest, I won’t be surprised if the Nobel Prize committee comes knocking at my door.)

Boyfriend deal-breaker list

1. You can get crabs just from looking at his couch.

2. He wears Ed Hardy t-shirts, particularly, ones that are bedazzled and/or are sleeveless.

3. He doesn’t bathe or get near water during Shark Week.

4. He tells you if you made your cat into meatloaf it would serve 4-6 people. (oops, that one’s on my deal maker list.)

5. He uses phrases like “it’s time to nut up or shut up.”

6. He’s invented a sex toy prototype and – it’s called the Balldozer.

7. He loves camping, and thinks you will too.

All of the above are flashing warning signals -- particularly the camping one. I’m grateful I’m able to share my boyfriend deal-breaker list as yet another one of my many humanitarian deeds. This list will save you from a life of servitude, or worse -- a life with a guy who thinks something called Gorp is food. No woman should be required to endure that type of torture, and really, how many of us actually have the calf and upper arm strength required to pee, leaning against a tree, while making sure the stream doesn’t splash all over our new Lululemon pants that are down around our ankles? Of course, you don’t have to listen to me. After all, what do I know, I’m only a future Nobel Prize nominee.

That’s why I’m grateful for my deal-breaker list.




Forget about rainbows and unicorns, I’m grateful for double martinis, single men and pretty much anything covered in chocolate or cheese. This gratitude journal is anonymous because the stuff that tends to fall out of my head and land on the page makes HR departments cringe -- and guys lose my number.
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