This post is about removing calluses and unsightly dead skin from my feet because Linda Seccaspina and fernsy want to read about it. I’m not sure I understand but, okay. I was told by someone very nice the beginning of a piece should tell you where it’s going and other stuff but I forgot what I was told. I’d also like to state foot care has to do with me being a sapiosexual. Joan H can confirm that's not a foot fetish. Now that’s out of the way I shall begin.

First my father’s favorite joke:

A new customer steps up to the teller in the bank and says “I want to open a goddamned account in this bank.

The teller answers, “Sir, I’d be happy to help you but you can’t use that language in here.”

Even louder, the man says “I want to open a goddamned account in this bank.

Again the teller answers, “Sir, I’d be happy to help you but you can’t use that language in here.”

The man shouts “I want to open a goddamned account in this bank!”

The teller says “One minute please” and goes to get the manager and tells him what’s happening.

The manager steps up and says “Sir, I’m the manager here and we don’t allow foul language. What seems to be the problem?”

The customer says “I just won 50 million dollars in the lottery and I want to open an account in this goddamned bank.”

The manager looks at the teller and then back at the customer and says “Is this bitch giving you any problems?”

My father learned quickly the principles of American business. I can still see him roaring with laughter as he told the joke. I worked for Wells Fargo some years back, I didn’t find it funny.

Now my mother’s favorite (only) joke:

Regan, Carter and Clinton are having a nice dinner on the Titanic. Suddenly the alarm goes out that the ship is sinking and they race to the top deck. Carter rushes to the lifeboats and shouts to the others “Hurry, we must save the women and children!” Regan shouts “Fuck the women and children!” Clinton says “Is there time?”

My mom learned quickly the principles of American politics. She’s pretty reserved and it’s the only joke I ever heard my mom tell and… she giggled. I’m pretty sure it was because she got to say the word fuck, which caused me to roar with laughter like my father!

Okay, both jokes weren't funny but I know y’all laughed. I’ve been extremely depressed and withdrawing so I needed to laugh.

From a facebook post (and the urban dictionary ‘cause of course I googled it):

Sapiosexual (n) – a person who is sexually attracted to intelligence in others.

It’s not my fault that I’m sexually attracted to intelligent people. It’s only a matter of time before it’s discovered this is an actual disorder or something valid. Please wait while I grab a cocktail (even though I'm not on a date).

Okay now I can weave in why I remove dead skin from my feet and, as a bonus without purchase, my relationship difficulties.

As I said to Joan H on facebook when she read the definition of sapiosexual and said she was never attracted to dumbasses, "Yeah."

Bummer when you go out with some hottie you scoped in online dating and he opens his dumbass mouth and starts yapping. It’s like you just want to say “shut up and chew, you’re totally ruining it for me you moron.” He looks great but he starts blathering about poor people taking all the money (I live in a red state) and I might ask something logical like “What did the poor do with all the money?” Of course this question confuses dumbasses and they begin chattering like monkeys about where the poor have spent trillions.

Monkey chatter, hot or not? You decide.

Soon enough I’ll be thinking I could be sitting on the counter in my bathroom with a bottle of Pretty Feet contentedly using acid to rub away the unsightly dry skin on my heels leaving them soft and lovely. Instead I’m trapped, wishing the ding dong would shut up so I could peacefully pick the arugula out of my salad and wallow in self pity at my sad fate.

Tragically, this is how most of my relationships have ended. Every time monkey chatter starts I begin looking at my feet and thinking about how rough and unsightly they’ve become while I waste precious time listening to some doofus who can’t think for himself or solve complex problems, like when to STFU. Yes, I need thoughts I can sink my teeth into, try as I might I just can’t get it up without it.

If you’re annoyed having wasted your time reading 800+ words-o-crap I understand. Believe me, I tried online dating for 5 years and went through as many boyfriends. It’s been a long decade, I truly understand. And maybe you're a sapiosexual too.