I don’t go for the horny chicks
or the hot chicks
or the slutty chicks
or the dumb ones
or the pregnant ones.

I don’t jump at the college girls
or the geeky girls
or the hipster girls
or the hungry girls
or the drunks.

I’m not one for the lasses in glasses
or the ladies from Hades
or bitches that’re witches
or broads who are frauds
or women who are… I don’t know…
busty?

It’s not that I’m picky
or judgmental but
I like a particular kind of creature:
Fat.
Smelly.
Pouty,
grouty,
short and prejudiced
– as I am about so many
of the dames described before.
You may mock my choices
and question my taste
but do me this single favor,
won’t you, my dear,
and tell me:
What are you doing Friday night?