![]() Future Boyfriends' Guide for Dating MeA Story by PherociousPhoebee![]() A comedic piece not meant to be taken literally. Everyone has to make fun of themselves every once in a while.![]() Hello
reader! In this guide, you’ll learn everything there is to know about dating
me. At this point, I’m probably still in the beginning relationship,
butterflies in my stomach, goo-goo eyed stage. I seem to hang on every word you
say and think you’re absolutely perfect. This will change. Soon. You’ll get to
know me better and realize that, in fact, I can be kind of… hard to handle? But
luckily for you, I've created this guide. This will be your Bible for the next period
of time that we are together, which may possibly be ‘til death do us part, but
let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Now, if you’re going to be my
boyfriend, there are a few things you should know. First, I’m a romantic. No,
not the red roses, candle-lit dinner kind of romance. Think Thoreau, Emerson,
Poe, etc. If you don’t know who these people are, either read up or get lost
buddy! Second, I guess I’m an awesome singer, since my audience--the
toothbrush, bathroom sink, and shampoo bottles-- have never complained before,
so don‘t feel threatened by my profusion of talent. Third, if you’re unsure
about what my answer will be to something, it’s probably a no. Have I mentioned that I’m always
right? No, really, I am. This means that you are basically always wrong in an
argument. You haven’t experienced this yet, but if you disagree with me, expect
a fight. Now, I don’t mean those little fights where you just go back and forth
for ten minutes, compromise, and then kiss and make up. I mean full fledged,
Middle Earth versus Lord Sauron, except I’m more powerful than that little punk
was. I don’t hide in a tower behind a giant flaming eye (it‘s like he‘s never
seen those Clear Eyes commercials before). Oh, and if you continue to fight
with me, watch out for my death glare… I hear it’s usually accompanied by the
“Imperial March“. I am always pretty. My makeup
is always perfect, my face flawless, my body a work of art. Nothing ever makes
my butt look big, and I even look beautiful when I’m in pajamas and devouring a
full carton of chocolate ice cream, hoarding it and rocking back and forth
whispering, “My Precious.” Dude, I am the Mona Lisa, and don’t you
forget it. We both probably know that I am no
homemaker. I like my house messy, my meals from a freezer, and everything
generally disorganized. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found a pair of
shoes and a handbag in that mysterious, utterly useless box sitting in the
kitchen called an “oven”. Nevertheless, if I take time to make you dinner or
clean something, you should see me as a domestic goddess. At the very least I
should be compared to June Cleaver, despite the fact that it‘s probably burnt
to a crisp. A for effort, right? If not, let’s see how well you can cook (if
you are, in fact, a chef, this part is switched.. Babe, you’ve earned
the title “domestic goddess” then). Also, I’m a writer. Anything you say
or do can and will be put in print at some point. Even miniscule things
that you think I don’t notice. Believe me, I do-- the way you stop to
check yourself out in the mirror when you think I‘m not watching, or the way
you can‘t ever put the milk carton back in the same place you found it.
Writers are kind of funny people, and when I say “funny,” I mean absolutely
insane. We make observations of the littlest things; we act like spoiled
children; and, if you touch any of our writing, we act like you’re Adolf Hitler
come back as a brain-eating zombie. We can be very arrogant as well. We are,
after all, God’s gift to the world, and therefore feel a certain… duty to let
people know it. I mean, we are just extraordinarily interesting, witty, and
charming. Another thing is, we like to go on killing sprees, usually murdering
people we are very attached to, but when a person’s got to go, they’ve got to
go. After spending months or even years developing a story character, we are
like psychopaths when it comes to assassinating them at the drop of a hat. We
have absolutely no pity as they draw in their last breath or go through a
myriad of torturous situations before absolutely begging for death. Don’t worry
though, you’re completely safe unless you’re a fictional character. Finally, the dog/cat/pet mongoose always
comes before you, end of story. Any pets that I own have to approve of you
before this can go anywhere serious. Maybe this sounds a bit drastic, but
they’re my babies, so if you don’t already possess it, you might want to
develop a love for animals within the fortnight if you want this to last.
You’re allergic? Hm.. I guess I could pitch you a tent out back… As long as you keep all these things
in mind, we will get along just fine. The most important thing to remember,
though, is that I love getting flowers arranged by my favorite florist. I keep
massive amounts of his business cards on my person at all times (hint, hint),
and if given the choice between having a love affair with him or Channing
Tatum, I might choose him. At the very least, it’d be a narrow win for
Channing. Did you break one of the rules? Piss me off? Get a bouquet of
flowers. This pretty vegetation is your get out of jail free card--use it! Please note that this guide is subject
to modification or amendment at any time and place for whatever reason, and is
relative to my mood at any particular moment because, well, princesses are
allowed to change the rules whenever they damn well please! © 2013 PherociousPhoebeeAuthor's Note
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Added on February 18, 2013 Last Updated on February 18, 2013 Tags: boyfriends, dating, girlfriends, romance, funny, comedy, teen, humor Author![]() PherociousPhoebeeAboutI am an aspiring 18 year old writer with big dreams, big ideas, and an even bigger heart. more..Writing
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