I am a premium woman

[beautifulduckweed]

This woman is high-quality, which inspired Kate Rothwell to come up with a list of reasons why she thinks she’s high-quality. And now, I am here to tell you that they’re both wrong. Both of them pale--PALE, I tell you--in comparison to the awesome heights of quality I am able to achieve just by inhaling oxygen.

Witness:

• I have unusually small hands. I have yet to meet an adult woman with hands smaller than mine, and that includes people much, much shorter than me. You probably won't believe me, but I’ve met ten-year-old girls with hands bigger than mine. In short, I have smaller hands than 99.999999% of the adult female population. You know what this means, right?
  
  Yes, if you’re a man, and you’re high-quality enough for me to take as a lover, my hands will make your cock look HUGE. And if you happen to enjoy the fantasy of having pre-pubescent girls tenderly flogging your bishop, my high-quality hands will facilitate that fantasy, especially if you close your eyes, or just turn the lights really low and take care not to focus your eyes.



• My breasts are large and perky. They are a D cup, but they pass the pencil test with flying colors. (The pencil test: stand upright and place a pencil under one of your breasts. Repeat with the other breast. Does the pencil fall down? If it doesn't does, your mammaries have passed the pencil test.) 97.326% of women with D-cup breasts are unable to pass this test, and for that matter, 77.325% of all American women and 98.9% of all Chinese women under the age of 30 have breasts under a D-cup, which means I rank in the topmost percentiles for both size and perkiness, whether you wish to categorize my breasts according to the the country of my residence or my racial lineage.



• My hair grows very, very fast. (The hair on my head, I mean. The hair on other parts of my body seems to grow at average rates.) My hair grows well over a foot a year. That means that for every foot of hair you donate to Locks of Love, I can donate 1.5 or more. This increase in philantropy is only one of the many indicators of my high quality.



• Unlike any other girl out there, I have a tattoo on the small of my back. And it’s utterly unique, I assure you. Consider it a stamp of assurance--an assurance of my high quality.



• I own two cats, one of my whom has markings on her upper lip that resemble a toothbrush mustache. I immediately made the connection and said "OH LOOK A CAT WITH A HITLER MUSTACHE I THINK I’LL NAME HER HITLER HA HA." This resemblance would never have been remarked upon by anybody, I’m sure, which makes my powerful skills of observation truly remarkable and high-quality.



• My other cat knows a couple of Astounding Feline Tricks. For instance, if you toss him on the couch, chances are he will bounce right off it and run, head-first and at great velocity, into the nearest empty paper bag or box and push it so hard, he travels several feet. (For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of witnessing this in person, please take a look at this AVI file.) This same cat also enjoys being spun around on the floor extremely fast, to the extent that when we stop spinning him, his head wobbles in a very comical fashion. Such premium tricks are indicative of premium felines, and such premium felines can only have been raised by a truly premium woman.



• And speaking of premium: Many girls wish to be carnal with me, because I’m such a premium dancer.

This is merely a small selection. I don’t have time to enumerate my various other excellent qualities, though if any of you adoring masses wish to point out crucial virtues of mine that I’ve omitted, please feel to do so in the comments section of this high-quality journal.

But now, the most important part: I am high quality, that much is certain, but are you high-quality enough for me? Well, as would be expected for somebody who’s so high-quality, my requirements for people who wish to date me are incredibly rigorous. For instance, if somebody took a look at my cat Hitler and said "Really, I don’t know where you got the idea from," I would have to point him to the nearest welfare office so he could look for a fat single mother to take out to dinner instead of me. Likewise, I refuse to date men whose breasts fail the pencil test, and whose rates of philantropy as measured by hair growth are less than 200% of the national average.

Most men do not meet these standards. Chances are, you do not meet these standards. Please know that my rejection of you is not personal. Perhaps you may look for a bride in a Third World country?

Postscript: I posted a modified version of this on Craigslist, because I think a wider audience needs to appreciate how truly high-quality I am.

Comments

AAA+++!!

[li-kao.livejournal.com]

Re: AAA+++!!

[misshepeshu.livejournal.com]

Thank you for that high-quality graphic; I only want to point out that my small hands would make that erection sported by one of those Mr. Ts look even more girthy and tremendous. I merely want to emphasize how this is truly a desirable trait for a dating partner and companion.

[browse.livejournal.com]

> • I have unusually small hands... You know
> what this means, right?

I was gonna guess "You're great at fisting."

> • Unlike any other girl out there, I have a
> tattoo on the small of my back.
> Consider it a stamp of assurance--an
> assurance of my high quality.

Do you prefer the term "tramp stamp", or "target practice"?

I'm looking forward to hearing how this ad fares on craigslist! :-)

[misshepeshu.livejournal.com]

Indeed, tiny hands would facilitate fisting. This would make me not only valuable to kinky men, but it should also ratchet up my value among certain types of lesbains.

As for tramp stamp vs. target practice, I prefer alliteration and have often referred to my tattoo as a slut stamp. My humor is indubitably of the highest quality.

[jennekirby.livejournal.com]

I refer to my hands as 16-gauge hands.

But only because mixing piercing and fisting is awesome.

(I also have tiny hands and large breasts. However, I thought the pencil not falling was considered bad and indicative of sagginess. If that is desirable, then hot! I could fit whole pocket protectors under there.)

[misshepeshu.livejournal.com]

However, I thought the pencil not falling was considered bad and indicative of sagginess.

Ooops! Sometimes my proofreading skills are less than high-quality. I have corrected my mistake; thank you for pointing it out.

Mixing piercing and fisting is indeed awesome. You are one of the highest-quality females I know, even though your hair doesn't grow as fast as mine.

[jennekirby.livejournal.com]

My hair used to grow that fast! And hey, I can smuggle pocket protectors under my breasts, should I ever need to do so. That's quality if I ever saw it.

[misshepeshu.livejournal.com]

You know what you could smuggle under your breasts that would be indicative of extremely high quality?

Ferrets.

Or cocaine.

Either way, what bliss.

[redsouffle.livejournal.com]

I, unlike 99.927% of women, have actually had a ferret under my breasts. And it fell, making me one of only twelve women in the entire world who has passed the infamous ferret test.

What the flying fuck?

[theotherjay.livejournal.com]

Interesting how, nowhere in this enumeration of the evidence of your quality, do you make any mention of your fine sense of irony.

/?!