Gotcha Bitch!

I actually thought I found a Perfect Man (PM). His stats were ridiculously amazing. His body was amazing. Hell, he seemed amazing. On the surface, his statistics would have made any human with ovaries cream until they drowned in their own wetness and turned into a pile of horny mush. Once I dug a bit deeper, it seemed like somebody was playing some cruel practical joke on me. Every woman has this list of conflicting characteristics they want their PM to have. Well, this one had nearly all of 'em. I half expected somebody to jump out and say, "Aha! Gotcha Bitch!" This shit was just to good to be true.

Well, "Aha! Gotcha Bitch!"

There is no such thing as a PM. He simply doesn't exist. Everything may seem great, but the deeper you dig, the more likely you are to hit a gas line. Once you realize a gas line is present, you can take precautionary measures and find new land to dig up or you can be a dumb ass and keep digging until shit explodes. I choose to walk away.

I live to dig another day.