So, I have to come clean about the guy I blogged about in the previous entry.
I have a problem, kids. Teeth are a deal-breaker. I've talked about this before.
If your grill is jacked, I can't date you. It's just that simple.
Oh, I can wax poetic about your sparkling personality or your quick wit but if your teeth point in 10 different directions or they're the color of a hazelnut latte, you can't get with this.
One day, when I'm 80 yrs old and surrounded by cats and their droppings, I might wish I'd settled for Ol' Snaggletooth because by then, neither of us will have any teeth but I'm still young enough to wish for a nice set up choppers.
For both of us.