Sarah Crowder’s lists; things that can put me off a man, romantically.

Things that can put me off a man

likes Morrissey. My hatred of Morrissey and his whining voice, his flouncing around on stage, his militant brand of veganism and his racist views has also put a boy off me many years ago. We were on the bus on the way from his house to go and play arcade games and I mentioned that I hate Morrissey. “But not The Smiths right?”, “them too, Joe.” He told me he was having a hard time not getting off the bus after that, I was too.
likes Jim Morrison. It’s okay to like some of The Doors songs, I can just about forgive this, but if you’re a fan of Mr Mojo Rising himself then your opinions are wrong.
likes Hemmingway. Hemmingway was a basic bitch
likes me. ( working on this. )
has one long fingernail
reads paulo coelho books. In all likelihood if they read Paulo Coelho books then they are probably a white man with dreadlocks and lame tattoos anyway, but sometimes they fool you by looking okay on the outside and having a white man with dreadlocks trapped inside them.
says “expresso”.
writes “on route” instead of “en route”.
bad at wrestling. It’s not that I expect anybody to be able to beat me at wrestling (excecpt for that one time I fought a pro wrestler in a bar in Minneapolis), but I want it to take me at least twenty minutes to win.
wears flip flops. I don’t need to explain/justify this one.
has ever been to/has any desire to go to Burning Man. There have been exceptions but I have always regretted it.
has a problem with pubic hair either hates it on women or has none of his own.
says “banter”
says “minge”
says “lol” instead of actually laughing, in real life face to face conversation.
smells metallic. I’ve tried to make it works with boys that have a thousand wonderful qualities but alo happen to smell like coins and truffle oil , I just can’t get past it. I have an incredibly sensitive nose. I also don’t like boys who never smell sweaty, or smell too much like washing powder.
only reads biographies, especially if they are all hardbacks.
wears silk boxer shorts.
mean about their ex girlfriends. You should all be eternally wary of men who describe their ex girlfriends as “crazy”.
rude about other women’s appearances.
dislikes shellfish.
breath that smells like cat food or wet seashells.
just finished reading their first Bukowksi book. all giddy like they just discovered misogyny for the very first time.
is like Charlie Brown. If, like me, you spend a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to date various underage cartoon characters then you’ll realise that Charlie Brown would be the most annoying kind of boyfriend. Even Cartman would be better.

Things that can make me like a man, romantically

is like Linus Van Pelt. Linus would be the best underage cartoon character to date, despite his addictive tendencies (blanket dependence) he is thoughtful, intelligent, sincere, and most importantly believes in the great pumpkin. Bobby Hill is another good cartoon boyfriend.
likes Leonard Cohen. mandatory.
likes me.
likes Joe Meno, Andrew Kaufman, John Irving, or Miranda July.
has a list of top ten favourite books and constantly has to re-shuffle the order.
arranges the books on his shelves in colour order.
wants to read and be read to in bed/on the phone/in the bath/in parks.
has a favourite monster truck. Especially if it isn’t Gravedigger.
says they love me on the first date then ghosts. This kind of crazy is like catnip for me, and I’m the flame these funny little moths fly to then vanish. They’re like those drug dealers that give you the first bag of crack for free.
can play card games.
has wonky or gappy teeth.
writes dyslexic poetry.
sends things in the post/mail. anthrax, nailbombs, complaint letters, amputated digits, care packages, love letters, nail clippings. I aint fussy.
draws pictures with the artistic style of a ghost in a minor earthquake. I’m thinking specifically of Matthew Gray Gubler here.
will brush, stroke, or braid my hair. bonus points to the tinder first date (who I am still good friends with) who french braided my hair
total emotional unavailability.
likes swimming outdoors.
likes goats.
likes sharing baths.
likes Harold and Maude.
cheekbones I could cut my wrists open on. and then just slowly bleed to death on the floor.
is a great blanket fort architect. Just saying that makes me feel like a lame manic pixie dream girl in a shit indie film that describes itself as “quirky”, but I can’t deny how much I enjoy drinking wine and listening to Leonard Cohen in a blanket fort with a couple of good lamps and some electrifying kisses.
knows facts about birds. Especially corvid birds.
smells like amber and woodchips.
wants to spend all winter every winter spooning, eating stew with dumplings, and watching Northern Exposure dvds.
carries five pens in one pocket and a moleskine in the other. Thinking specifically of Matthew Gray Gubler again, and that time we were both sat outside the same juice bar at the same time and I didn’t ask him “have you got five pens in your pocket or are you just incredibly pleased to see me?” because I was a wimp/in a relationship.