Fuzzy wuzzy was a bear

Do you have a nickname? To be more specific, did someone once give you a nickname, that maybe you were not aware of but found out about later? I'm pretty sure you gave someone a nickname as some point in your life - unless it is Bill reading this, you are to close to being a perfectly polite and appropriate human being - which is most likely why I call you mr. mary poppins - anyways, you don't count Bill. The rest of us self absorbed, egocentric slobs do create nicknames for people.

I was watching a commercial for the Sex in the City movie that is being created. I swear to Goodness I should be a writer for that show. Between me and my gfs we have some funny episodes. Anyways, before I digress too much. I seem to have this need to give my men nicknames. It's like, once I give them a nickname, they have a play in my own little personal hall of fame. Honestly, if they don't get a nickname, they are forgotten as quickly as they enter the picture. I still think about PT (short for puddin tits) and he really wasn't around for long but he did make an ever lasting impression. If I wanted to remember his actual name, I would have to call my girlfriend Alisen, and as her, "remember that guy you dates before that guy you dated before you met your husband? Well, what was his friends name, you know the one, that had man boobs?" Seriously, that would be the conversation.

Ok, so bringing you up to date, I'm having a dilemma....There is this really nice guy that I have been seeing for a while now (and a while for me is longer than 2 weeks). He is so very nice, thoughtful, just an all around good guy. He's very simple, but that's part of his charm. I keep throwing things at him, waiting for him to mess up - say the wrong thing, tell me he doesn't like doing that, tell me he wouldn't try something new - but it just doesn't happen. We have absolutely nothing in common. I am big on teeth - it's the very first thing I notice about someone - I am totally grossed out by crooked teeth, and not to mention missing teeth, or those dying ones - you know what I'm talking about, gray and all deformed. Yes, it's fuckin shallow - and yes I'm obviously that fuckin shallow, so now that we have covered that, let's move on shall we?
So, the teeth thing - it's a big deal. I have repeatedly said, I would no sooner date someone with messed up teeth any sooner than I would date a smoker. Smoker is second on my list of no-nos. Then going down the list it is furry, dirty ears, dunlap syndrome, animal haters, fast movers, non-veggie eaters.... I can go on but you get the picture.
Back to our character that remains nameless - the nice guy. Why do I keep going out with him? I can't stop seeing him. I have no real reason to stop seeing him. I have lots of superficial reasons, but that would then prove I am as shallow as I just said I am. It's one thing to say it, it's another to accept it. I have given him a name
e though. He is the furriest man I think I have ever been that close to. Though I think teddy bears are cute and they are cuddly, when they feel like a poodle it doesn't something to my desire to cuddle. What's a girl to do? Looking back on Captain Hook, Dr. Dribble, puddin tits, sweaty sweety, baby bladder, mr. veggie, teeny peny, skinny jimmy.... (the list goes on) I can't tell you which one is less attractive than the next.
I will do my best to work on sleeping with my teddy bear and try to slowly see myself replacing it with a bigger, slightly more wirey version. And if that doesn't work, well, stay tuned to the next episode of the PBS version of sex in the city.

All clothes stay on in this version, in the event young people are reading so it stays PG.