My Gallery of Imperfect Gems, ch. 2, part 1 (Version bossa nova)

[Sung, melodic vocals only]
I no longer believe in love at first sight,
but I carry on pretending I do.

Filled with naïve optimism – and probably under the influence of too much magnesium – I've decided to sign up to a dating site. New life, new mindset, fabulous new bloke. So I've posted my personal ad: carefully thought out, not too long, just mysterious enough to intrigue, and not too out there so as not to come across as a bit of a nutter.

Avoid spiritual references right from the start.

Come on, girl, let's get this over with, and quickly. Dating sites aren't really your thing, so:
One personal ad,
One initial contact,
One date,
One single goal: one real meeting.

Come on, don't beat about the bush. No waffle, get straight to the point. Be brave, cheer up! Boldness pays off! Let's go, my darling!

A lucid and vulnerable confession about my collection of imperfect gems.

RARE MODEL! LIMITED EDITION!

My presence is unforgettable!
Original bodywork.
When moving forwards, my chest leads the way.
When reversing, my bottom warns me of obstacles.
I was the hand double for snow shovels.
My eyes don't always agree on where to focus.
My hair embraces its freedom of expression: airy and bohemian.
My smile excuses everything: neither white nor straight, just genuine.
My skin is magnetic: you can't have it all!

A genuine gem

Free and grounded:
I'm a living gallery of unapologetic self-deprecation.
Lucid and tender—respect is a must. But only in writing.
When speaking, I'm completely unfiltered. I have less time to think.
I live with a permanent time lag.
My comebacks often come at dessert time.

Apart from that,

If you think I'm flawless, you're mistaken.
But let me reassure you straight away: I don't own up to all of them.

Non-negotiable bonus:
I'm over fifty. COLLECTOR'S ITEM
You'll meet my parents.
With me, it's serious.

A little hidden clause

That nobody wants to read in the contract:
I suffer from an incurable allergy to being controlled and to unsolicited advice.

Selective, I only meet:
On REAL-LIFE DATES

And if you fancy setting off on a journey with me, I'm more into:
Long-haul trips…

Absolutely inevitable:
I come out with goofy punchlines.

I look forward to meeting you, so we can smile together as we gaze out at the sea.
Because if you change your angle, you end up facing the road.

One personal ad.

2355/7500

[Sung, melodic vocals only] I no longer believe in love at first sight, but I carry on pretending I do. Filled with naïve optimism – and probably under the influence of too much magnesium – I've decided to sign up to a dating site. New life, new mindset, fabulous new bloke. So I've posted my personal ad: carefully thought out, not too long, just mysterious enough to intrigue, and not too out there so as not to come across as a bit of a nutter. Avoid spiritual references right from the start. Come on, girl, let's get this over with, and quickly. Dating sites aren't really your thing, so: One personal ad, One initial contact, One date, One single goal: one real meeting. Come on, don't beat about the bush. No waffle, get straight to the point. Be brave, cheer up! Boldness pays off! Let's go, my darling! A lucid and vulnerable confession about my collection of imperfect gems. RARE MODEL! LIMITED EDITION! My presence is unforgettable! Original bodywork. When moving forwards, my chest leads the way. When reversing, my bottom warns me of obstacles. I was the hand double for snow shovels. My eyes don't always agree on where to focus. My hair embraces its freedom of expression: airy and bohemian. My smile excuses everything: neither white nor straight, just genuine. My skin is magnetic: you can't have it all! A genuine gem Free and grounded: I'm a living gallery of unapologetic self-deprecation. Lucid and tender—respect is a must. But only in writing. When speaking, I'm completely unfiltered. I have less time to think. I live with a permanent time lag. My comebacks often come at dessert time. Apart from that, If you think I'm flawless, you're mistaken. But let me reassure you straight away: I don't own up to all of them. Non-negotiable bonus: I'm over fifty. COLLECTOR'S ITEM You'll meet my parents. With me, it's serious. A little hidden clause That nobody wants to read in the contract: I suffer from an incurable allergy to being controlled and to unsolicited advice. Selective, I only meet: On REAL-LIFE DATES And if you fancy setting off on a journey with me, I'm more into: Long-haul trips… Absolutely inevitable: I come out with goofy punchlines. I look forward to meeting you, so we can smile together as we gaze out at the sea. Because if you change your angle, you end up facing the road. One personal ad.

0/500