Thou Shalt Not date anyone that frequents my gym

“Well, what do you reckon to him then?”
“He’s a total ‘Monet’ Mate”
“A what?”
“A Monet; From far away he’s lovely to look at but up close it’s different story, my word hes dumb”
“I’m not asking him to write me bloody poetry”


But thats exactly what I’m asking, well in a round about way I am.


Because just like the girls that fill your Tumblr, and me full of envy, with their seemingly endless legs and flawless skin, I would still find myself bathing in the harsh light of the ever sobering morning after with someone who doesn’t know his Tom Ford from his enviable cheekbones or his Helvetica from his perfectly defined triceps and despite my newly found and seemingly detrimental addiction to Geordie Shore I refuse to wake up next to someone who for all intents and purposes could not split the Sunday Paper and its subsequent supplements with me over tea and toast.

Call me picky if you must but pseudo intellectual pillow talk just will not do and there really is no substitution for sharing the style section.