My entire life so far, I have strived to be as average as humanly possible. It is extremely difficult to stay balanced between awesome and horrible. Between popular and schizophrenically yelling at myself. Between excited and suicidal.

I really love equanimity. I don’t like my food too spicy. I don’t like extremely attractive, model-prone women. I would just be too nervous the whole time that I’m doing things wrong. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your perfect skin with my scaly, fat hands!” I would say on our last date ever. I don’t know what I would do if I was wealthy. I don’t think that would be good for me, either. I would just sleep in all day and get fat again because I wouldn’t have to work or anything. I don’t like dive bars, but I also don’t like upscale bars. I like the regular ones. Nice enough to make me feel like I won’t get murdered, but middle-class enough to not make me feel weird if I order beer instead of wine.

Back to the topic of women, because women are important. I am more attracted to average-looking women than I am to beautiful women who shouldn’t be at the places I go to anyway. What are you doing here?  I think realism sets in whenever I see a really good-looking woman. I can’t even fantasize about her because it’s too far out of the realm of reality that even fantasy isn’t able for me to fathom. Please just go away. I hate you.

I also love middle-of-the-road things that the masses prefer. I use Tide detergent. I like Martin Scorsese movies. I like Starbucks. I like air conditioning. I dislike traffic. I like Traffic, the Michael Douglas movie. I dislike Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, the other Michael Douglas movie. I can’t do a pull-up. I don’t think.

I want to be with a woman that I am not only comfortable in the fact that she won’t break up with me, but wonderful enough for me to not want to break up with her. I want that happy medium. Call me. We’ll go to Chili’s.

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