There was a big song that came out a few years ago called “Finding Out True Love Is Blind.” Remember that? It was a guy doing his best Mick Jagger voice singing about different kinds of girls that he was going to do things to. The summer that came out, I had a goal, comrades. And that goal was to make out with the lead singer of that band. “I can do this,” I thought. “He isn’t even super attractive.”
But I never did. That would have required for me to actually do things, like go to their shows. That’s effort, man.
I don’t want to make out with this guy anymore, but if I don’t, that means I’ve failed. So someone needs to help me find this guy and we can make out and then I’ll know I’ve succeeded in life.
If I find a man attractive, I will go up to him and just tell him. If someone says something mean about me on the Internet, I’ll thank them for just talking about me.
What do they mean by “love is blind”? Is that a nice way of saying, “It’s okay to fall in love with an ugly person”? I am always paranoid that the person I fall for is attractive only to me. But why the hell should I care what my friends think? And I also worry that the friends of the someone I like think that I’m a Picasso Guernica era drawing. It shouldn’t matter. And it doesn’t. And all of my friends think I have good taste in men anyway. Except for that one time I liked a guy who had classic, to quote a friend, “Douche face.”
Are love and appearance tied together?
Next week I am doing my first Apocalypstick giveaway. I’ll be posting the prize on my Facebook and Instagram. Come back on Monday to enter!












