The living definition of insanity

Well I have spared you all details of morgue monday, as I couldn't even find humor in it. But here are some sad self revelations.

Not but four days ago I told someone I couldn't even pretend to hope to fall in love.

And yet, if this was true, would I accept a date for saturday with an Israeli news photographer?

Would I be flirting with a South African guy who promises to take me to see House of the Dead on wednesday?

Would I be sending daring emails to a guy who lives in Virginia? VIRGINIA?

Would I be going twice a week to see the hot Argentine guitarists?

No, I would have pulled my profile from both dating sites. I wouldn't bother to leave my apartment.

Clearly this does not bode well for the bunni.

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