I'm a decent, sweet and respectful ladycreature and not up my own bum. Once revered as "an abstract juxtaposition of articulation and insanity" - how damn sexy is that?! - you sir are dealing with a delightfully refined, angelically deceptive, creatively expressive, logical, technical, badass pixie.
Think: cute baby Ewok - mediocre growl - fucking sharp spear.
Young enough to skip barefoot in the rain.
Old enough to enthuse about salad.
I'm likely to fall in love within the hour if I have to Google the words and terminology you use. I had to look up "pegging" once - sadly it didn't lend quite as well to being reused in my own profile as sapiosexual, dilettantist and capricious.
I need a challenge, mental stimulation, a best friend, an entertainer. With big hairy balls, who also cries and wears eyeliner. (Ok, the eyeliner isn't mandatory. And depilated plums are enticingly acceptable.)
90 hour weeks are like sooooo last season. I don't care if you earn £70k, have a Merc, Rolex or run a huge multinational if you have no time to play wifff meee. I do care if you have a cute fluffy pussycat; all the nice boys have cats. And yellow stripey boxers.