I had no idea this was happening, but apparently, some major hotties are having a difficult time finding me.
They’re a tad late since I’m happily married and eternally devoted to the woman of my dreams, but at least the decades-old question of “What the heck is wrong with me?” is finally being answered.
It wasn’t my awkward looks that kept me perpetually dateless. It was my lack of visibility.
With the help of Facebook, I have been found and befriended by high school classmates who I once suspected were mutes. Not a word was spoken between us 20+ years ago yet here we are using Facebook as a platform to reconnect.
Akin to a nod in the hall, we acknowledge each other’s existence with a few mouse-clicks, and then comfortably resume our roles of ignoring each other for all of eternity. Long live vapid relationships!
Aside from being searched for by people who required a yearbook refresher-flip to remember, I’ve noticed a significant uptick in the number of sexy babes seeking my digits.
Your search is over, ladies, but you’re too late. Perhaps if Facebook had been around in the early 90’s we could have had something special. You, me, silicone. But alas, you will have to keep pining away for me from afar.
I can’t say I’m surprised that over-inflated sorority sisters are after me. After all, I’m 38, lanky, and balding. Easy girls. Compose yourself. There’s plenty of me to go around.
My wife tries her best to convince me that these are just ads but the timing is just too coincidental to ignore. I mean, aside from the fact that I’m a debonair playboy with a hint of James Dean, you need to remember that I’m now a nationally recognized crooner. Babes love this.
“Honey, trust me. They’re just ads.”
I have to laugh. Jealousy sure makes her say some nutty things now and then.
I think her denial is cute.