*Another note: Some of my life circumstances have changed since writing this and some of the answers to questions. I'm in the process of rewriting some of those answers and comments, so just be aware that some references to what I am currently involved with may not be applicable.*
That's real romance.
OK so you're looking for a guy? Your search ends here, I am the bitchin'est boyfriend ever, grade A dateable material.
You want a sensitive guy to listen to how terrible Stacy treated you? I will hug the shit out of you and hold a box of tissues so you can cry more tears than the Cherokees.
You're looking for a partner in crime? I'm the ideal getaway driver, can drive large vehicles, trucks, whatever. Standard? No problem, I learned how to drive on a fucking standard. I can drink coffee, send hilarious text messages, juggle, and shift simultaneously. Talk about crazy multitasking? I make driving extremely dangerous.
All hot and bothered? Again not an issue. I can accommodate any and all desires and needs you may have. No questions, no judgements. I will wake you up with goddamn oral sex on Valentine's Day, your birthday, whatever, 7 fucking days a week I'm yours.
Remember that incredible vacation we went on to that exotic location? No? Well that's because you didn't bother to respond to my incredibly well crafted and thoughtful message, and I had to take hotgurl32 rock climbing, scuba diving, and hiking through the frigging rainforest instead of you. We made sweet sweet love under the gorgeousest fucking waterfall in fucking south America. Are you jealous yet? We didn't even get sick from drinking that shit. She goddamn near exploded with pure ecstasy. After that I seronaded her with a plethora of perfect pitches delivered in vabrado. Pitches love vabrado.
Your last boyfriend hated Thai food, Indian food, Mexican, whatever. Not me. I fucking love food, I eat anything and love it. I don't care where it came from, especially if its in an expensive restaurant. The best part? I look in-fucking-credible in a suit and tie. You would have to be absolutely crazy to *not* want to have the arm of such a charming and devilishly handsome gentleman such as myself. And I'm humble as shit. Bring me out to the fanciest restaurant you can find, I live to impress.
Love to dance. If you don't that's your problem. Adrenaline fuels me. I'm as likely to jump out of a plane as I am to walk down the stairs. I have an unhealthy lack of fear. I hope some terrorist tries to shoot up a place I'm at, just so I can fuck that bitch up and show all his pansy-ass friends what a pussy he is.
Bottom line: you do not want to miss out on or pass up an opportunity to be with me. I am the greatest thing that can happen to you. Fuck you if you think otherwise.