TheBunnyBlog.com - April 13, 2007

Remember girls--when you were little--and you'd do silly things like counting the twists of your apple stem with letters, "A, B, C, D..." and figuring out the initials of the man you were going to marry. The letter of the last twist before it snapped off was the letter of his first name. Then you'd take the stem and pop it into the skin of the apple doing the "A, B, C, D" thing, and the letter you pierced the skin on was the initial of his last name. Remember how you used to like a boy with the initials J.H., and you would try and fix the twisting, like twist really, really hard on J, and pop really, really hard on H?

I swear. The things girls do when left to their own superficiality.

So anyway, I used to play that game with my girlfriends endlessly, and I used to imagine my vision of the perfect man, which back in my apple twisting days, was a cross between Patrick Swayze, Cary Elwes and Bruce Springsteen. He would be a fireman, and I would be a scientist. We would have three darling children and a waterbed.

Eventually, you grow up and realize that there's no dream guy or soul mate out there waiting for you, there's only a grouping of personalities that would suit your own, personalities you can be happy with and love. It's just as nice, really, but not as dramatic and imaginative as the dream guy thing. That's why I still pick out dream guys. Every now and then. Nothing superficial...err...

To suit my modern dream needs, dream guy has to have the following:

-A big nose. I'm not looks oriented, but I need a big schnozz. I don't know why. Sometimes I think its me paying attention to something primal, something that says "Don't mate with your alcoholic, button-nosed kin," Irish hybrid vigor in action perhaps. Give me a Roman nose to suck on; I'm a happy girl.

-Ruggedness. Beards. Dirt. Sweat. I need a soap-using man with rough hands. If I want to smell apricot exfoliating scrub in bed, I'll just sleep with a woman.

-Smarts. I talk, and talk, and talk, and talk, and I like to listen too. I'm not the sharpest taco, but I'm pretty sharp, and if you can't keep up, we won't last long. The smarter you are, the better, so long as your smarts don't suck up the ruggedness. Rawr.

-Outdoorsiness. That's not a word, but whatever. Like I said, I'm not the sharpest taco. Now I can find the origins of this one easily in my past. We girls look for daddy, and my daddy is outdoorsy. I am outdoorsy. I hunt, hike, fish, camp, climb, ski, and yada yada. Daddy goes into the wilderness for a month with a knife and a blanket each summer, and if I'm going to pick out a dream guy, he'll be able to do the same.

So if we add up all my dream need requirements, a schnozz + ruggedness + smarts + outdoorisness (the extreme version), we can see that my dream guy is not only more attainable and realistic than a hybrid of silly actors, but that he is the star of his own television show--which I Tivo, of course--Man vs. Wild on the Discovery Channel.

Yummy. I'll have to try and tap B.G. into my next apple. You know, if I still did silly shit like that.

Posted by The Bunny at 11:17 AM