Pretty I’m a pretty good-looking guy. You don’t have to tell me, I know. I mean I kind of know. Basically my mom tells me I’m pretty all the time. It’s not funny. Pretty is the only word she uses to describe things that are attractive. Her granddaughter is pretty. Her dog is pretty. Her husband is pretty and thankfully so is her son. Seriously, look at me. I’m kinda tall I’m sort of dark And though I’m pretty and not handsome I think if I presented my mom with the option of calling me handsome that she just might take the bait. “Hey mom. Let’s play a game. What’s another word for pretty? If you wanted some candy I could HAND you SOME.” Get it HAND SOME. Yeah, that’s about as good as my jokes get. My “Make the cut” list was simple, I thought. But as I get more and more sad everyday I wake up alone I had to really reflect on my list and ex some things off. I thought the original list was pretty solid: Must make at least $500,000.00 a year, just in case something happens to My income I want a woman who can maintain on her own. How much do I Make? This isn’t about me right now. Brown hair, brown eyes- I like things that match. College degree with at least a 3.6 GPA for genetic purposes. I don’t want her to Pass on stupid to your kids.