Tomboy wanted

Tomboy Wanted

I am a vulnerable guy who needs to be protected by a big strong tomboy with the emotional availability of a Labrador and the upper body strength of a forklift.

I am a man in need of looking after. I want to be told I’m doing a good job while you effortlessly open the pickle jar I’ve been fighting for 20 minutes.

I’ve got a shitload of cash and I want to spend it on the first tomboy I meet. Hey girl, I’ve got so much lettuce I could open a salad bar. It’s all you can eat when you’re rolling with me. That’s how I roll.

Likes:

Need to have big arms. Defined shoulders, lats and triceps a must. Flannels. Cargo pants. Boots. Messy hair. Women who can fix things. Women who say “I got it” and then proceed to carry something that requires a forklift. Women who would let me pay the check while pretending they weren’t going to anyway. Women who can bench press my problems away. Women who have pockets. REAL pockets.

Money. Dollar bills, baby. All that shit. Trucks. Motorcycles. Power tools. Bling. Bodys. Hell yeah! Don’t mind if you have enough testosterone to intimidate the entire Home Depot parking lot, as long as you still call me cute.

Dislikes:

Weird balls. Fake pockets. People who say “girls can’t do that.” High heels. Being asked why I’m staring at your arms. Anyone who says “that’s not very feminine.” America’s Next Top Tomboy, if they make that show with rent boys maybe I’d watch it.

Requirements:

Must be capable of carrying me emotionally and possibly physically.

Must be willing to say “good boy” after I successfully parallel park.

Must have absolutely no idea how much power you hold over me.

Applications accepted exclusively from women who could beat me in a fistfight but would rather hold my hand.