Save the Drama Fo’ Yo’ Momma

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I’m a classy guy. I’m a gentleman. Ask any broad I’ve been with and they’ll tell you I’m nothing but class. Aces, even. But for some reason, me and the dames – not a good mix lately.

Is it because I’m getting older and I tolerate less crap than say a 26-year old? Perhaps.

Is it because I hate games? I know what I want and I go after it? Could be.

Is it because every woman I meet isn’t willing to meet my meager demands of a college education; sanity; a high libido (highlighted by amazing kissing techniques); a sense of humor (preferably an appreciation for dumb comedies because I’m all about stupid fart jokes); an affinity for sports and not thinking that yelling at the television when something doesn’t go your team’s way is considered “weird”; a sense of style; and above all else, patience? Endless amount of patience? Oh yeah, she’s gotta be hot too.

Is that too much to ask?

Look. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about meeting her half way. I love doing things that guys aren’t supposed to do. For example, chick flicks. Love them. Don’t get me started on Untamed Heart with Christian Slater and Marisa Tomei. The way he loved her with his baboon heart - that’s unconditional love. And what about Hope Floats? The scene with Sandra Bullock wearing the sundress and the cowboy hat. I need a DeBeers catalog and a bottle of Jergens.

Snuggling / Spooning? Where do I sign?

Pillow talk? Absolutely. Well, as long as she can go through an entire sentence without using the word “bro” and will order the pizza because those little details really do it for me.

Shopping? You got it. I’ll gladly hit the mall with you. There are some limits, of course. Just don’t take me to Sawgrass during a Dolphins game. That’s grounds for dismissal.

The point is, I’m a flexible cat. I’ve been working out so I’m kind of cute. Seriously, I am. I have boyfriend written all over me. I have a career, I own my home, have good credit, a college education, no criminal record and I know how to treat a lady.

So, again, I ask. WTF? Where are all the ladies that cry like Mary Magdalene when they don’t have someone to hold after watching Grey’s Anatomy?

I’m not about to go looking for you in a club. You won’t find me standing on the outskirts of the dance floor watching you as I compete with other guys for your attention. Clubs today are like a human version of Hungry Hungry Hippos (best game ever).

Am I venting? Yes.

Why? Because.

Honestly, I don’t know if I want a relationship. I don’t know if I want to get in deep with someone. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

But what I do know is that I DON'T want someone who pisses me off. Save the drama fo’ yo’ momma.

I guess my point is if you’re hot, watch SportsCenter, like fart jokes and don’t say “bro," come over this weekend for a special double feature screening of Untamed Heart and Hope Floats. We'll order some Papa Johns and partake in a healthy game of Hungry Hungry Hippos.

Damn, that sounds like a good time.