I’m thinking today a lot about people, about the millions of types of people in the world, about how many of those types I can’t stand.  All of them, actually, if you want to start grouping people together.  As a general rule, in fact, I hate all people by virtue of their inclusion in a given group.  Myself included — probably, actually, moreso than anyone.

My friends, acquiantances, and people that I can talk to for more than five seconds without beginning to imagine new and unfilmed ways of piercing flesh with roast tongs encrusted in yesterday’s gravy — those people are most unrepresentative of their groups.

This is what makes it impossible for me to describe people that I like.  It keeps me from having a “type” of desired woman.  It means, too, that I can’t tell you what I’m looking for in a woman, outside of “I want a best friend that I’m attracted to and have chemistry with.”  Well, and a woman who doesn’t give me shit when I end a sentence with a preposition.

There are no rules, only expectations.