Reasons you don’t have a girlfriend #1: Habits
It is the nature of disgusting habits that sometimes you didn’t realise you were doing them until someone pointed and went, “Eeerrrghhh!” That’s your first clue that you’re doing something long since abolished in the civilised world.
There are some habits that, although harmless, trigger the gag reflex in witnesses. For instance, it makes sense to not be wasteful, but if you finish a dinner date by holding your plate aloft so the foody debris can pour into your mouth via a gravy avalanche, she’s not going to want to see what you do to your dessert, let alone post-coitus. (Incidentally, I like to blend all my desserts into a flavour rich stodge which I slurp on through a crazy straw. It’s always delicious, but it makes even me feel queasy if I catch my reflection.)
Then there are the body functions and redundant habits that shouldn’t be revealed until you’ve gotten your ‘I love yous’ behind you. These include breaking wind, picking your nose and smelling your finger after every time you touch yourself.
If she accepts you after this – pustules and all, then you have either found ‘the one,’ or she may have some darker secrets of her own. Maybe even a penis.
For some men, receiving acceptance isn’t enough; they need to push the boundaries of their partner’s love. They can be aggressive, in fact. An accidental bowel song in bed is less a source of embarrassment, but more an opportunity to submit their sleeping bride to domestic abuse; lifting the duvet over her head whilst yelling “Dutch Oven!”
Barbaric? Yes. Malicious? No. It’s more likely that the man in question has difficulties expressing himself. What sounds like the gleeful shriek of a hyena are actually his desperate cries of, “Love me! Love me!!”
The lady’s ability to withstand said torture indicates her potential for the incubation of his sperm, which he’ll send her way in creative fashions.
Of course, these methods are the fastest way of determining compatibility, but they don’t always make a great first impression. It’s safer to harbour this uglier side of yourself until the keys of civil partnership have turned, locking you into an unholy union of horrifying proclivities.