A woman said to me at a party recently, “You really have to get it right when you’re picking the husband who is going to be the father of your children.” I wanted to punch her in the face and say, ‘thanks so much for reminding me that I’m a really bad picker. That’s why I went out of my way to choose someone who refuses to support his children.”
I’m such a bad picker it is best that I only have imaginary boyfriends. Last night as I reheated old beans for dinner, I said to I-mag boyfriend, ‘where are you when I need you?’ My fantasy boyfriend makes the bed, buys me expensive restaurant meals, takes out the garbage and doesn’t mind that I am a professional fool.
Maybe us old feminist gals don’t have time for in-real-life boyfriends. How can we plan the revolution when we’re busy whispering sweet nothings into someone’s hairy ear? Luckily social media saved me from my mad late night musings and I didn’t have to be depressed and alone for too long. Another new boyfriend sent me a Facebook message at midnight which just about saved my life:
Hello,I’m Justin jack ,an Engineer live in England a divorcee.Your profile caught my attention! You look so cute and charming, saw your profile and was moved with what i saw. I will like to know you more.I want to learn more about you.I wait for your response.