A Letter to My Future Girlfriend

Hello Cassandra (absolute must, this name is so hot),

I assume you have found these blogs that I have been writing to be utterly hilarious. This image I have curated online with the skill only matched by Kanye’s PR team was carefully designed to attract female women from across the globe. Lucky you for falling into my trap.

I am writing you this letter for a few reasons. First, I think you should have the correct expectations for what the thrill of dating me entails. Second, I think it’s important I let you know in which ways I will fall short of your expectations. Surely you won’t mind, but just know most things you typically look for in a man you aren’t getting from me. Most importantly, I am writing this letter because I am single despite being the catch that my mother ensures me that I am. 

I could sit here and tell you about how you are securing your very own Prince Charming. I could also tell you that LeBron James is the GOAT and I didn’t poop my pants in my sophomore year of high school, but I won’t start our future relationship with a lie. From everything I’ve imagined about you, this won’t scare you away. You will surely fall in love with me for the comedic chops that could surely only be considered to a young, gentile version of Larry David. As a result, I will never try to make you thing I am clean, polite, or a good person. I love the fact that you will see the good in me, even when it’s objectively not there. 

Now that you know why you can and will love me, it’s time for you to get some reasonable expectations. It’s not for a lack of trying, but I think I am the only person to ever receive any physical pleasure from my body. Do whatever you want with that information. Most of my free money is used on bets I never hit, and weed that never lasts. This means gifts you receive will be few and far between. To make up for that though, I will let you pay the bill when we go out to eat. That’s right, chivalry isn’t dead here at Total Frat Move. 

I think all of this goes to show that I only attract a certain type of woman. After looking in a mirror and reading this letter back, I think it’s safe to assume that no more than sixty-five percent of eligible women are actually interested in me. Despite that, you are the one who ended up with me. How can you not be romantic about that?

I can’t wait to meet you, and I’m sure that you can’t wait to meet me. I’m sure our relationship will be one for the history books. Until then, get your daily fix of my esoteric unbearable personality through my online literature. 



P.S. Please keep a granola bar in your purse. I get fussy when I’m snacky. 

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Written by TFM

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