Nobody puts baillee in the corner

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog post about why I continue to make the first move when I continually get shot down. After numerous field studies aka thinking about how to write the following satirical letter, I have come up with a few reasons as to why I continue to strike out. Most of the following adjectives and justifications have actually been used by guys, whether in an actual rejection or just a simple discussion regarding why I am single with male friends. Thus, I have decided to compose a letter of apology and justification for my current relationships status.

Dear Men,

First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my height. Being 5’9 (on a good day) can be rather intimidating. I am currently looking into traveling overseas to participate in some experimental femur breaking surgeries. In addition, I am looking into switching the lower half of my body with Anna Kendrick, but her agent said Anna is still considering because of the extensive recovery period (and it would throw off the current spacing and position of any upcoming Pitch Perfect choreographies). We can’t have me breaking the glass ceiling by accidentally smacking my head into it, right?

Secondly, I would like to apologize for my kindheartedness. I am currently working with Gordon Ramsey to correct any censored remaining inklings for taking care of you when you’re sick, asking if you need anything from the store, or letting you pick where we eat. In addition, I have completely lobotomized my right supramarginal gyrus, so compassion and empathy no longer exist. I am essentially the T-1000 without the ability to melt into silver, Alex Mack-esque goo. Now, if you will excuse me for a brief moment, I need to empty the cup I now drool into.

Thirdly, I would like to apologize for my boyish behaviors. I understand comics are appealing to women because we can look at the pictures, as everyone knows we are mostly illiterate and uneducated, and I should not even allude to knowing anything about the Marvel universe until I am married because it is indecent for a young single woman to discuss such things without her husband present. I also apologize for swearing so much. Pardon the hell out of me. I am a lady thus I should use fancy transitions and make sure my petticoat is clean at all times whilst gazing longingly from a window. I should also apologize for my short hair. Luckily they were able to save some hair that was singed while opening the oven to check the meatloaf. Anna Kendrick and I are in talks of executing a full head transplant, but she is currently weighing the pros and cons of having to re-shoot a lot of scenes from a lot of movies.

Finally, I am truly sorry for my unique tendencies. I often forget to wipe off my coven’s trademark black lipstick, and horror movies tend to be the main topic of discussion at our sacrifices, so I have become an accidental aficionado. We need something to kill the time and mute the screams. I am also sorry for my obsession with stuffed animals. The city took away my 44 dogs, and I need something to fill the void. In addition, I would like to apologize for my tidiness. One of the side effects of the robot piece now lodged in my brain is the constant urge to clean, and I do miss my roach friends that would scurry alongside my canine companions.

I hope this letter can help my future husband to learn to forgive me.

Warm Regards,

Baillee Perkins
Sinfully Single

P.S. In an attempt to correct my fixation on grammar, I let several men read this, so their shouldn’t be anyy misstakes.