You have to live in Echo Park. Or at least not fucking Venice, I mean come on. You can’t be an actress. You can’t not smoke. At least, you can’t be one of those girls who won’t even take a drag after three glasses of wine. Because if you’re one of them, I know you’ll never fuck me. You have to be better looking than me. You have to be downright good looking, even though I am not that good looking. I am in crazy shape though. I don’t give a shit if you’re out of shape. I’m not going to ask you to lift anything.
I don’t give a shit about your money, job or car. But you may give a shit about my money, job and car. I have no money, a shitty job, and my car is worth $800. It’s primer colored, and the seat belt, windows, sunroof and A/C are all broken. Or rather, the A/C works but only when it’s not hot. And someone jacked my stereo. And the car is older than you. You have to be younger than my car.
I don’t care what you think of my cat but you can’t be allergic to cats. I care about your relationship with your dog, meaning—shut the fuck up about your dog. I like dogs but I don’t like you if you have too many pictures of your dog. Believe me, the fucking thing is sick of being your boyfriend. Stop putting up pictures of him. I will not be dating your dog. Unless I’m sure you’re good and passed out.