Alright, Lets Do This
So, without much thought or adieu, I shall attempt to create the perfect (wo)man.
But where do I start? Should my qualifications differ based on gender? That’s hardly fair…
Alright, enough of the bullshit. How abouts, I cut all things that would have to do with the gender of the person, and get down to the emotional/mental shit that I require? Seems like a pran!
LETS DO THIS
FIRST, I must have some grey matter to work with. No “lolfuckbooks” allowed in the favorite books section of their Facebook. If I had to have a preference of their favorite genre, I’d have to hope for a healthy appreciation for Sci/Fi and Fantasy. Speak to me of your home world Usul. 
You’ve got me wet already…
SECOND, If they don’t love music, they can getthefuckout. Music is my life, my job, my reason for leaving the house. Of course, I’m not asking for some knowitall indie ass, just someone to share the loveofmylife with. If you really want to steal my heart, talk to me about Handel or Coheed and Cambria. Or you could just worship me at my The Best Day Ever and Cairo’s on Fire shows…. Yeah, them’s my bands… Don’thate.
THIRDLY, I’m tired of assholes. Introduce me to that “nice guy,” that “sweet girl.” It’s Cuddleseason after all and I need some grade A cuddlin’. I want someone I can cook dinner for and the next night cook dinner for me, oh OHSHIT, baby, letscooktogether. Let’s watch Disney movies together, make me feel better after watching Lars Von Trier’s newest film, kiss me in the middle of Love Actually so I don’t feel like punching that pretty boy Hugh Grant… That accent is no excuse!
FINALLY (well until I feel like bitching again) This magical person MUST have a sense of humor. If you can’t laugh at a fartjoke, don’t waste my time. Shits, funny. Shit is funny. Anyone who says otherwise obviously has something to hide. They can’t take themselves seriously, let me laugh at you and you can laugh at me.
ALRIGHT, target sighted. 
LETSSETTHETRAP
the time that that Love Actually movie warns you all about. Oh you haven’t seen it? Basically, if I don’t have someone to tell I love them and love me in return by Christmas, I suck as a human being. Great…
