(satire disclaimer) I like to think I’m a good person; cute; slender figure; soft, manageable hair. But it seems that’s just not good enough for guys these days. I can’t escape that nagging feeling that no matter how pretty I am, no matter how firm and taut my young jiggling breasts, I just don’t measure up to those other girls with their “engaging” personalities and vast arrays of knowledge.

Why can’t guys see past my intellectual shortcomings and realize that, on the outside, I’m just as attractive as those other girls? Why can’t they see the real me: my long elegantly arched legs, my sexy, dark, shoulder length hair, my pink, rose petal nipples, oh so sensitive to the touch. But, of course, guys never notice these things because they’re too busy judging me by my limited capacity for conversation and the fact that I don’t know very much.

Oh sure, they pay me compliments. They say I’m “pretty on the outside” or I’m “attractive in my own way,” but just once, I’d like for a guy to see me as more than “a friend,” just once I’d like to get that lustful stare that guys give smart, accomplished women with advanced degrees in microbiology and comparative lit. What I wouldn’t give for guys to see past my inner shallowness and discover the impossibly gorgeous young woman just aching to be loved.

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