When I was younger, the boys I liked the most were the ones that didn’t like me.  You know the ones that never sat next to me at lunch and the ones that threw tan bark at me during recess.  There was something about boys that gave me no attention that made me pay attention.

I guess not much has changed. I like the boys that don’t invite me places, the ones that don’t call me and instead call me names. The ones who don’t let me talk and threaten me with a good time. I was asked the other night if I had a type, and the only answer I could muster was that I was attracted to liars and assholes.  That’s only half true.

Because I don’t realize they’re liars until too late, and the asshole is endearing until he isn’t.  Some say the good guys are all taken or gay. Others say the good guys are in the friend zone, where we left them. They all say the good ones finish last.    What do I say?

I say the trick is finding a bad boy who wants to be good to you.

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