This chick book is terrible. How am I supposed to consider it a guilty pleasure and conjur up the man of my dreams, when this is the description of the dream dude..
"He looked comfortable in his usual jeans and a faded U2 elevation concert tour t-shirt. He was barefoot and sporting a salon-induced tan, his brown hair perfectly coiffed, as always with a few orangey-blonde streaks in his bangs."
I think she just described Bon Jovi.
I spend enough time dodging this same exact dude on OKCupid.
That's it. Imma go outside and build a snow man with my roommates. Besides, I'd rather my men pale, lacking that salon induced douchetan.
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