11.29.07
Men, Oh Men
Yes, your car may be rather dazzling… but I’m not interested in it. Like my Mama always says - a la Forrest Gump - “one doesn’t make love to a car.” Weren’t you aware that I prefer ambling in the sunlight or in the rain? Are you capable of bringing me to places – even without wheels? Books or flowers over Louis Vuittons and manufactured signatures, please. By the way, the name of the posh hotel you stayed in was waaay out of the topic. I would have been impressed if you told me you spent the night in a nipa hut.
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No. Being a musician is not a requirement. Being a decent man is. (But on the other hand… you should at least know who Bach is.)
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Oh, yes. It’s mighty sweet of you to deem that I’m perfect, be so understanding, tolerant with my moods, submissive to my wishes. Truly, a myriad of girls would vie for your affection.
B-b-but… where’s the romance in that?!
Be a man! Tell me what I’m doing wrong. I am not perfect. Far from it! If you believe otherwise, then you have no idea who I really am. If I’m perfect, then what do I need you for? Raise me. Edit me. Teach me. If you cannot, then you’re not for me. Cultivate my good qualities but show me how I can improve.
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My ideal man, you ask… you know what?
One doesn’t necessarily have to ask, thank you.
