| Name: |
Jessica |
| Use three gerunds to describe yourself: |
living, breathing, ovulating |
| Do you like piña coladas?: | Yes |
| And getting caught in the rain?: | No |
| Are you not into yoga?: | Yes |
| Do you have half a brain?: | Yes |
What do you look for in a T. Mike?: |
|
A man, bearing a "Date Me" sign, whose persona is shrouded in the mystery inherent in porting a name which includes an abbreviation.
|
| How hot would you say you are?: | Super Hot |
| How big a bowl do you need for a haircut?: | T. Mike's bowl |
Describe your perfect date: |
Clad only in a white tank top and slim-fittin' blue jeans, I sit down to my favorite rainy day hobby, working the pottery wheel o'love. T. Mike comes up behind me, playfully running his not even remotely feminine arms, I mean, Patrick Swayze was a such a man. I don't get people sometimes. Oh, um, T. Mike runs his arms down my clay-spattered artisan's hands. Suddenly, a pre-Guinan Whoopi Goldberg pops up out of nowhere, and says "Yo! I channel dead people!" And we're all, "What the hell are you doing on our date?" Then the unattended pottery wheel splatters clay everywhere, and we both come to the realization that sex coated in clay is neither sanitary nor very erotic.
We both decide to screw it and go for a beer and a pizza, maybe catching a nice skin flick together afterwards. |
Where would you take T. Mike on this date: |
The Beer, Pizza, and Porn Warehouse, of course.
|
| Is any special equipment required for the date you have in mind?: | Yes |
| If the VGGs weren't forking out the cash for this, who would pay for your date: | Go Dutch |
| So, uh, do you have a sister?: | Why yes I do! |
| You do realize that we're not paying your way to LA if you do happen to win?: | Yes |
Anything else you'd like to add?: |
I'm certifiably female. I can do a stupefying imitation of Rocky and Bullwinkle, I once ridiculed Ben Stein to his face, and my favorite cartoon growing up was Voltron, the years preceding Sven's demise. If picked, I can promise T. Mike an evening of romance under the glittering firmament, scintillating conversation with an intellectual equal, laughter from the heart, and all the marshmallow peeps his romance-ready heart desires.
In conclusion, you should pick me because I know what the hell a gerund is.
And I'm cute.
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