“Women That Really Like You Don’t Give A Damn How Tall You Are”

Very rarely do I avoid a riveting twitter discussion. 9/10 we have the same weekly conversations anyways. $200 dates, #90DayRule, Best Kanye Album, Women & their preferences… 

Wait.

Women. And. Their. Preferences. Twitter women are a different breed, a lot of them just say anything. Then you have women on Twitter (difference from “twitter women”) like myself who have a little bit of sense and say what’s real, not what’ll get me retweets. Although, because I make so much sense and I have boobs, I get RT’s without dumbing myself down. This morning, it was the quintessential “fellas, RT this with your height.” Which sparked a “If you’re under 6ft stay out my mentions” sh*t storm.

Let me say this and get it out the way. Height doesn’t matter if a woman truly is feeling you. Really, none of that sh*t matters! There’s so much hype about the “perfect” guy. He has to:

  • Be taller than 6′ 
  • have dimples
  • have a flourishing Stalley-like beard
  • have tats
  • Be 8″ or better
  • no kids
  • make 6 figures (because on twitter, anything less is “broke”)
  • Be a Heat or Lakers fan
  • Have pretty eyes

There are so many great men that don’t fit this list at ALL, and can take your girl. Why? Because while you’re busy chasing the pretty boy with the eggplant emoji in his pants, who probably makes those 6 figures through a Wake Up Now scam…there’s a 5’8″ good guy with a nice stable job who is beardless with regular brown eyes and likes the Spurs, who will treat you like a Queen. But you’ll overlook him, because he doesn’t fit your precious little list. It’s cool to have preferences but you’ll be surprised how much of a box you put yourself in. It’s like apt hunting, just put in your price range. 400 pop up. Start saying “but it has to have __ & be __ and do ___” number drops to 10. Don’t limit yourself to happiness you don’t even know you can have.

I don’t have a physical check list. light skin, dark skin, tall, average height, slim, big. beard or not. You fine, you fine. I’ve dated pretty boys, who had eggplant emojis in their pants, one had pretty eyes, another could sing, and the last one was tall, had tats, no kids and was a Heat fan. Guess what? The one with the pretty eyes? Found out he wore contacts. All of a sudden, he was a regular guy. The one who could sing? Was completely crazy and to this day will randomly pop up and tell me he’s in love with me. The last one? Who fit the mold of a twitter boyfriend? WASN’T A LICK OF SHIT. I couldn’t censor that one. He just wasn’t. He looks too good to ever humble himself. That’s the problem with pretty boys, too many options to truly settle down. And they take forever to get ready, worse than women. God forbid one of them has curly hair and not a simple fade, they spend more time in the mirror than you and use up all your natural hair products. No thank you. Whenever I’ve stepped away from focusing so heavy on physical attributes, I found some pretty cool guys. It’s so cliché but it was what was on the inside that turned them from 6’s to 8’s.

9/10 when all you go after are superficial preferences, all you end up with is a motherf*cker that isn’t sh*t BUT LOOKS GOOD. Like I said before, what good is having a Bentley parked in the driveway, if the engine is blown? I’ll take the Lexus that runs smooth, thank you.

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