Every year it’s the same thing. “Cupid, I want a man with a 12-pack,” and “Cupid, I want a big-titty babe,” and I just have to ask, for the love of God: When is anybody going to care about what I want? Where’s my soulmate? Who’s gonna shoot an arrow in MY ass?
I know you’re all preoccupied with your own crummy lives, but I’d like to have a special someone in my life too, you know. Someone to come home to and do nothing with as Baby Einstein plays on the TV in the background while I bitch about my day matchmaking. Someone who will be with me to celebrate the good, and stick with me through all the spit-ups and all the diaper rashes. Someone to open up to during tummy time. I’ve tried to put myself out there, but these babies at my playdates just aren’t cutting it anymore. I’m here for something real, not a quickie round of peek-a-boo with a chick who is, at max, a 4.
What I’m saying is, I’m not 8 months old anymore. I already have a full-time job, and I’m looking for the real thing here. As the 16-hour a day naps seem to get lonelier with each passing day, I’m slowly realizing my teddy bear and blankie are no longer doing it for me. It’s like those girls who get male body pillows and dildos when they don’t have a boyfriend. It’s just not as good as the real thing!
Not to mention that it’s been harder putting my efforts towards dating this time of year, when all of you are exhausting me because you’re not happy with where I aim my bow. Well you know what, I can’t get you Ryan Gosling. Do you know how many strings I’d have to pull to do that? Get in line, sister!
Besides, do you even need me anymore? Sure my arrow was built by a literal Greek god, but it can’t compete with a dating app algorithm created by some virgin in a basement out in Silicon Valley, California. Sorry my arrow can’t always strike a 6’5” Christian liberal who wants kids, but doesn’t smoke and lives 2 miles away from you. The arrow I have isn’t updated to iOS 11 anyway. Wherever my arrow lands, that’s where it lands. Have you ever shot a bow and arrow before? I’m a literal baby with small hands, not Katniss Everdeen. It’s impressive that I can even shoot a dart and even more impressive I can shoot one into someone’s back and make them fall in love with you. This dating app can find you the Jim to your Pam 80 miles away, I can get you that guy with the beard that goes all the way down to his stomach who just passed you on the street a couple of minutes ago…if my aim is working for me that day.
So why doesn’t anyone shoot an arrow in my ass? I’m so busy trying to get you laid, that it seems like you’re too busy swiping away to get me some this Valentine’s Day. It’s tiring working the graveyard shift that day too. Want to pay me back for my good deeds? The very least you can do is set me up with your friend or even better, the baby you’ll end up conceiving on Valentine’s Day night.