Wanted: Sugar Daddy (inquire for details)

After reading this post, I have come to the realization that I would make a totally kickass housewife.  I already spend most of my days indoors in a state of living death, constantly thinking about my next meal.  With a working man to support me, I could live the life of luxury I’ve always wanted.  Let me outline my qualifications for the position of Stepford Wife:

First, I’m very demure and soft-spoken in person.  Why, it takes me months before I feel comfortable enough with new acquaintances to start calling them by their first names.  I remember once in Home Economics in high school I had scalding hot jam accidentally poured over my fingers.  It must have taken me a good 20 or 30 seconds  before I started screaming “FUCK FUCK FUCK!!” at the top of my lungs (actually, it was more like “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!”).  Clearly, my self-control is inhuman.  Who else but the perfect hausfrau could push down their emotions so well?

I’m also quite vain and would almost definitely start shaving everyday again if I had a caveman to appease.  Ever woken up in the morning, taken a look at yourself in the mirror and said, “Holy god, I’m good looking”?  I have.  I also enjoy getting and putting on new clothes, so I’ll fit in with the other housewives at the beauty salon.  And guess what?  I have a relatively fast metabolism, so I can eat until I’m stuffed and still not look fat.  Freshman fifteen?  Pshaw!  I actually lost ten pounds my freshman year, none of it from dieting.

Furthermore, I’m experienced at doing household stuff like ironing and cleaning.  I went to a Catholic high school and used to iron my dress shirts and uniform pants myself, you know.  And cleaning?  Why, as long as there’s something on tv for the next couple of hours I don’t mind washing, drying, and folding the laundry.  I’m equally-versed in dishwasher use and in washing dishes in the sink, and I will almost never mistakenly use the toilet bowl to wash stuff in.  And speaking of the bathroom, I can get one clean lickety-split.  As for the kitchen, I’m a compulsive neat freak, so I’ll almost always keep the stove clean.

Finally, I think I make a decent cook.  I have a reasonably-sized repertoire of dishes I’m comfortable at making and which I’m constantly adding to.  None of it is typical white North American fare, either, and hardly any of it is to be found in restaurants.  Meatloaf?  I don’t even know how to make that.  I admit, I don’t know how to bake, but I’m thinking of learning how to do that soon, and I’m confident I’ll have no trouble in my education at all.

So you see, as long as I’m kept in bon-bons and tv series dvds, I will never leave your side.  You won’t have to worry again about being alone in the cruel world (unless you lose your job).  Also, I will totally let you borrow my porn if you get horny.  I ask you, reader, is this not wedded bliss?  What more could a man ask for?  What more?


Sugar mamas are also acceptable.

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