Happy Belated Humpday

Paige and I do alright in the looks department. People don't throw up when we are wearing crop tops. I curl my eyelashes. Paige is constantly self-manicuring with color's such as "Boris and Natasha" and "Disco Kitten". We both own running sneakers and (matching) sport bras.
On the other hand neither of us are even loosely related to Heidi Klum. We eat processed cheese. We succumb to Clean and Clear's sunny advertisements.

Despite, or possibly because, of my averageness, I got a little upset while reading about the recent controversial dating website entitled BeautifulPeople.com. This site has members vote on newcomers, which must be deemed "beautiful" within 48 hours of trying to join. The site recently just revoked thousands of members because they had apparently gained weight over the holidays. So not only are these people shallow enough to only date beautiful people, they also narcisistically think they are beautiful, but they are, gulp, not hot enough for other desperate beautiful people.
I mean this is awful, really. Whatever happened to giving someone a chance? There have been several times where I have gone on a date and answered all of thetypical questions, and this is how it goes:

Paige: How was date?
Me: Good, good. It was good.
Paige: Did you blackout at dinner again?
Me: The ends a little fuzzy. Maybe I didn't need to have a cocktail while showering beforehand.
Paige: Did you makeout?
Me: No, not really. No. Nahhhh.
Paige: Is he funny?
Me: Sorta, he didn't get my Dog Whisperer joke though.
Paige: Is he cute?
Me: Oh Jesus, he's terrible looking.
Paige: Ouch. Do you like him?
Me: I'll go out with him again, he's nice.

No lies.

So, Happy Late Humpday. Because at least you weren't kicked off a shallow dating website for eating too many blintzes or chugging eggnog over the holidays. If you are one of these unfortunate now-fatter BeautifulPeople.com people, we advise you come to Brooklyn.

who wouldn't want to date this Brooklyn girl?

Where the girls here wear flat shoes, they drink dark beer and eat meatball pizza. They don't go tanning or work out that much. But come and look around. There are terrible looking guys who haven't shaved or pumped iron since last Easter who are getting laid. We advise you get on the C train to Brooklyn and study up on the Dog Whisperer.

Forever Your Girl,
Holly