Sorry for being MIA for over a week. I’m having a time lately. I’ve been in a weird mood, which I thought I had snapped out of after accidentally dining in the ‘burbs with some sassy septuagenarians. Judging by the fact that I made cookie dough last night, managed to make only 7 cookies before I forgot all about them (and I never forget about cookies), left the gas oven on for 5 hours, got up in the middle of the night to get a drink only to hear strange noises coming from my refrigerator that sounded to me like a frog, and had a panic attack at 2:30 a.m. in my kitchen, I’d bet good money that I’m still in that mood. Which is concerning, because old men shamelessly flirting with me is my kryptonite. That’s not even a joke – I Eat. That. Shit. Up. One of them even kissed my hand. I fanned myself with my other hand like a deranged southern belle and nearly passed out from joy. Things like that have never before failed to lift my spirits into the heavens. So I don’t know what’s going on. But I don’t want to disappoint you dear readers. So, pic of the week…

This week, the picture is actually the least offensive part. It’s the caption that kills me. And no, I did not caption that myself in an attempt at humor. That was ALL him.

• Let me get this straight. You are so against saggy breasts, that you PUNCH WOMEN IN THE CHEST?!? What you call a joke (god I hope), I (and the rest of the world) call indecent assault and battery. It’ll land you in prison for up to 5 years. Getting punched in the chest is the most decent thing that’ll happen to you in there.
  
• There is a minute, but disturbing, chance that I have met this asshat. This photograph was taken at the Coast Guard base in Boston, a place I have visited numerous times. My chest hurts just thinking about it.
  
• Why do guys insist on posting pictures of themselves working out at the gym? Seeing you in grubby workout gear does not make me swoon. And I don’t care how much weight you can lift or how far you can run. That is not information that will ever come in handy for me. Post a picture of yourself cooking a delicious meal, wearing Carhartt, and/or building floor-to-ceiling bookshelves of the Beauty and the Beast variety, sliding ladders and all. That is the kind of thing I really care about. That is the kind of thing that makes me weak in the knees.
  
• For the love of god, why is this on your dating profile? That’s not rhetorical, I legitimately don’t understand.
• Stop molesting women and start doing your job – the waterways in this city aren’t safe.